Marek of the Rebellion
by AncientDoom
Summary: Vader wanted an army. So he got one. Rated -M- just incase. Mostly violence and cursing.
1. S01 Ep01

"People are not born heroes or villains; they're created by the people around them." - Chris Colfer

**-Starkiller-**

**-Rogue Shadow-**

Starkiller was not a man accustomed to outbursts of emotion, in fact, he considered himself downright stoic, but as they neared the dormant Executor, the lightsaber of Shaak Ti hanging from his belt, it took every ounce of self-control he had not to jump up, scream his victory to the stars, and perhaps do a little dance. Instead, he contented himself to lean back, relax, and let a fraction of his glee show in the curve of his lips.

He had earned it. The woman had been a tough fight, his toughest thus far, and his body ached. It was a good ache. He would be more surprised if his body didn't ache. It would have been a sign that he was dreaming or worse, dead. The aching meant he was alive. It was the proverbial 'you should see the other guy' ache.

Starkiller closed his eyes and sighed. "Well, you're in a good mood." Juno Eclipse reflected cheerfully. She continued hitting keys and talked while she worked. "Care to share with the rest of us peasants?"

"Hn." He grunted. "I doubt one, such as yourself, would understand the complexity of the details going into a nobles life. Be content with your lowly status."

"Yes, master. Remind me to kiss your feet." She responded sarcastically.

"I would be more than happy to-"

"I bet you would, PROXY, but I'd rather you not." Starkiller said. "Nah, but really. The mission was a succe-"

"Son of a-" His pilot suddenly cursed. Starkiller sat up and looked around attentively.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm getting replies that I'm in classified space and to depart." She reported. "I'm trying to explain back that I know what I'm doing here..."

Starkiller furrowed his brows in thought. They had been through this plenty of times. Every mission, they depart, they return, they depart, then they return, and the cycle continued. What made this different? Vader was expecting him...

He hadn't received a notification from Vader, through PROXY, that there was to be any change. So he had to assume there wouldn't be. It was a dumb officer. Even if they didn't know about Starkiller, they should know better at this point. "No, leave them be." He ordered. "Go in, drop me off, and if someone gives you trouble, tell them they can talk to Vader. Must be a new security officer."

The Executor was a ship crawling with mechanics. Starkiller kept himself isolated to prevent witnesses, but there were... understandings with the staff that there was a special agent of some kind on the ship, as well as frequent visits from Vader, and to keep their noses out of it. If this new guy was giving him trouble, Vader would have his head. Starkiller had a bad feeling though. This had never happened before.

"Alright, settling down." She confirmed.

The ship glided gently into dock and Starkiller glanced out. "Well, they aren't giving us anymore trouble, at least." She said optimistically.

"Hn." Starkiller scanned the area anyway. It was lifeless, as usual. So why did he feel on edge?

"I'm going." Starkiller hit the door switch and it lowered for him. "I'll let you know if we need to head back out."

"Oh, yes! I'll keep the engine nice and toasty!" He heard Juno reply as he descended. He rolled his eyes.

The last few... weeks with her had been interesting to say the least. She had survived the longest of all his pilots, being longer than one mission to be precise, now going into the fourth mission, and was a peculiar specimen of wit and obedience.

On one hand, she knew when to do as she was told. Orders were orders. She stayed out of the way and did nothing more than nod.

On the other hand, she was... unruly. Starkiller would go even so far as to say disrespectful with constantly talking back, but her actions proved to be obedient even when her mouth was not. He wasn't sure what to make of that. Human nature was not his expertise. She was an interesting conversationalist in a way that Darth Vader wouldn't appreciate and PROXY just lacked. Starkiller would miss her if Vader deemed her unfit or knowing too much. None of his other pilots ever said anything engaging. Where would he get a pilot that was half-way interesting to talk to?

Starkiller made his way through the Executor, and periodic noises put him on edge. He kept his hand glued to his lightsaber and listened attentively. This part of the dreadnaught was supposed to be dormant of all life, save three, but the sound of boots in the distance gave him the impression the vessel had taken up new residence. The boots kept at a perfect pace and distance with his own... He was being followed carefully.

Starkiller turned the corner and waited a solid thirty seconds before springing out, lightsaber at the ready to fight...

no one.

Starkiller looked around carefully. There was no one. He reached out with the Force. He felt Juno, patiently waiting and keeping herself occupied. He felt his master waiting, growing impatient. There was no one else.

'My nerves are getting to me...' He scolded himself. He turned off his lightsaber and entered the observatory where Lord Vader awaited.

Vader was an impressive sight to behold. A wide-shouldered man covered in black armor, machinery, and a powerful and sinister Dark Side presence that could blot out suns. To anyone who didn't know him, he was scary, to anyone who did, he was terrifying. Knowing him didn't make it any better, and Starkiller figured he knew his master pretty well.

For fourteen years (Starkiller was seventeen) he had been raised by Vader. He was an orphan rescued from the ashes of the battle of Kashyyyk. Starkiller never once confused his relationship has being remotely family-like. If anything, he was raised in a life-debt to be Vader's tool and weapon. He was Vader's willing slave.

And why shouldn't he be? He would be dead were it not for Vader. He wouldn't have the power to destroy evil. He would be nothing but a skeleton on Kashyyyk giving himself to roses and weeds.

For fourteen years he had trained and pushed through physical and psychological trauma to get where he was now. At seventeen his progress had placed him on par with Jedi Masters twice, three times, or even four times his own age! His latest prize was a testament to that.

Starkiller stopped at exactly ten steps behind Vader, lowered himself on one knee, and presented the lightsaber of Shaak Ti. Without a word or utterance, the lightsaber flew through the air into Vader's outstretched hand. Vader glanced it over.

"Stand here. Tell me what you see." Vader said.

Starkiller rose to his feet and placed himself by his master. He looked out and saw a number of assault-class vessels come out of Hyperspace and take up position around the Executor. "A fleet. The 501st?" The 501st were Vader's select army all the way back to the clone wars.

"The Emperor's fleet." Vader elaborated.

The Emperor... Starkiller shook with anticipation, his aching body forgotten. This was why he had been raised. This was why he had been trained. Vader was the Emperor's heir, and by the Sith Code, that meant succession by murder. Starkiller final purpose, the reason he made himself stronger and meditated each day was for this day. The day he would stand by his master, put down the old man, and have a new Empire.

Naturally Vader might suspect that Starkiller would betray him in turn one day, but Starkiller did not imagine that in his dreams nor place it among his desires. He was alive. He was able to breathe each day because of Lord Vader. It was not his place to replace his master, ever. It was his place to be his master's will.

Starkiller looked to his master in awe and could barely contain his readiness for the upcoming fight. "You lured the Emperor to us? Excellent. When do we strike?"

"I did not summon him..." Vader replied.

... Starkiller eyed him briefly, curiously. If Vader didn't summon the Emperor... then how?

A door opened behind them, Starkiller, cut off guard, turned to appraise the intruder, and gasped as something sizzling and burning pierced his spine and exited his stomach. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move. He lost all feeling in his lower body and would have fallen were it not for a gloved hand grabbing him by the throat. "His spies followed you here." A menacing voice whispered in his ear.

The lightsaber exited out his back, causing more damage along the way, and Vader dropped him on the floor. Starkiller cringed in agony and curled briefly in a ball in an instinctual effort to protect himself. Feeling slowly returned to his legs and he looked up into the oppressive mask of Vader looking back down on him like he was some kind of... of enemy!

Starkiller felt he was dreaming. This... all those years... it just couldn't be happening! This had to be a dream.

Vader turned his attention to a figure that entered the room and bowed his head, "What is thy bidding, my master?"

Every word pierced his heart. Why was Vader acting submissive? He was Vader! The throne was his rightful place!... right?

"You have forgotten your place, Lord Vader!" The old, wrinkly man snarled. "By taking this... boy... as an apprentice..." He lowered his voice to a whisper that actually sounded hurt. "You have betrayed me... Now... you will kill him or I will kill you BOTH!"

No! Starkiller struggled to his feet, even as he clutched his stomach in vain effort to contain his blood seeping through his fingers. He coughed and landed on a knee, this was as far as he could get. He didn't want to die. He didn't want his master... his... father... to die. They could get through this! "Master!" Starkiller cried desperately, "We can defeat him! Together!"

Even though Starkiller could barely stand, he was willing to do whatever it took to get his master victory! Even just him tackling the old man, pinning him down with what strength he had, and dying to bring Vader victory... that would be enough. His life was for Vader! That had to amount to something!

Vader briefly looked down on him, and he felt hope enter him. Starkiller no longer had any doubts he was going to die today, being in the middle of a feud between two powerful Sith Lords, but maybe, just maybe, his death would mean something.

"Do it now, Lord Vader! Strike him down and prove your loyalty to me!" The Emperor demanded.

Loyalty! As if! The Emperor knew nothing of loyalty! Vader was not loyal to him! Starkiller knew what real loyalty meant. Loyalty was his very life! Starkiller looked up at Vader, ready for the briefest signal to begin fighting.

But the signal never came. Vader made up his mind, and with a sweep of his hand, sent the almost-crippled Starkiller flying across the room into the pipes jutting out of the wall. Starkiller felt himself hang limply in the air, little more than a useless, puppet on a string. He felt tears come to his eyes as he realized what he meant to Vader. His life. His death. His apprenticeship. His loyalty. His dreams. His achievements.

It meant... nothing...

Again and again Vader threw him around the room into various objects. Starkiller lost track and closed his eyes, unable, and unwilling, to fight against the power surrounding him. He was a ragdoll. He felt his bones break on impact, and his body went limp, further breaking as he was tossed back and forth and back and forth at a velocity his broken body was not meant to handle. His spine popped, his ribs broke, his arms limp, his legs useless, blood seeping from his head and pouring from his stomach... He was a broken servant. All while the tyrant of an old man laughed and mocked him and jeered him in his final moments.

A final throw whisked him through the air, and Starkiller briefly saw the mask of his master... his former master, just before he impacted glass hard enough to be thrown out. It was thick glass too. So he had little doubt a lot of his bones fractured on impact.

Air escaped his lungs and stomach. The air pressure made him feel like his head and eyes were going to explode. He had an immediate migraine that only grew worse with each second, and the last thing he saw before he thrashed around madly for air was his former master not even giving him the honor of watching him die... His master's back was turned to him both literally... and figuratively.

He had been betrayed.

* * *

**-Juno Eclipse-**

**-Rogue Shadow-**

Juno, for the five millionth time, checked all systems. Green, green, green, with a shade of dusty-green. all green. As... usual. The ship was still at max fuel, the hyperdrive was cooled, and the radar was gently beeping with no nearby contacts.

Sometimes she really hated her job.

So she passed the time by pulling out a holobook and retiring herself to glancing around briefly every few paragraphs. She didn't dare do it while actually on a mission, that was both unprofessional and caused unnecessary distraction, but here? She was allowed a brief break as far as she was concerned. Not like she had anything more to do. She didn't have an office or apartment on the Executor. This ship was her life right now.

A sudden series of beeps drew her attention and she glanced at the radar. Five dots appeared on the far edge of her sensors, approaching fast.

She dropped her holonovel to the side and turned off all power except to the radar and scanner. Lights dimmed and soon the only lights in the room were from her console and holopad. Until she had an idea what she was dealing with, better to lay low. Starkiller wasn't back yet and this place was supposed to be top secret. "PROXY! We have incoming! I'm going to do a passive scan to see what we're looking at!"

"There should not be any ships in the system, this is restricted space." It replied from where it stood in the back.

"I know, that's what has me worried..." She watched fearfully as the scanner slowly, ever so slowly, went through its scanning and revealed some information she could use. "All IFF's are marked as Imperial vessels!"

Now... Juno was an Imperial pilot. She was raised to see the order and law as absolute. The Empire and its army created peace by stamping out terrorists, but the sight of the rapidly approaching ships set her on edge. There were not supposed to be ANY in this area! Starkiller was a secret, both to the Empire and rivals, and as such should be kept that way! Starkiller was top-secret, beyond top-secret even! So far as she knew, only two living people knew of Starkiller's existence.

So having a whole bunch of friendlies pop out of Hyperspace and approach them, did not feel friendly to her.

Movement on the edge of her vision drew her attention to a bunch of rapidly approaching storm troopers across all parts of the hanger. She was surrounded and hadn't even realize it. They were armed and aiming at her. "Come out of the ship!" They demanded. "Put your hands in the air and leave, slowly!"

What the hell?!

"PROXY? Any ideas what's going on?!" She barked. They had to be after the wrong ship! She hadn't done anything wrong! All she was doing was reading a damn holobook and relaxing while waiting for her charge to return!

"They appear to be engaging in hostilities."

"NO SHIT! WHY?!"

The droid looked at her a long moment. "I do believe they are... silencing us. This fleet's IFF belongs to the Emperor himself."

"No... nononononono!" She looked out in horror at the still-approaching storm troopers. They were walking slowly now, anticipating that she wasn't being cooperative. "Th-this can't be happening! We haven't DONE anything!"

"I disagree. We have done much. We have played a role in a top-secret-"

"I get it PROXY! We know too much!"

"Open up in there!" The storm troopers knocked on the ship door, startling them both.

"What do we do?" She demanded PROXY even as her mind raced. There were really only two options. Surrender or run. She was not going to fight. If they surrendered... they were screwed. The Emperor would silence them, meaning execute, for having knowledge of something far above her paygrade. If she ran... they would be criminals...

"Running would be the most viable option." PROXY concluded.

"How do you figure?"

"Vader and the Emperor are not on... the best of terms, shall we say. The Emperor can only be here for one of two reasons, Vader or Starkiller, and in either case, we are inheritantly enemies of the Emperor."

"What?!" She demanded. Since when did working for Starkiller make her an enemy of the Empire?! A flare erupted on the door where the storm troopers had resorted to starting to cut in.

"I do believe Vader can vouch for us if we run and return to Starkiller's side. But for now, the most opportune option is to evade being executed."

Juno glanced hurriedly at the cutter continuing to create a door out of her door, and the controls. Without enough time to consider it more, she went with doing what she could. "Screw it..." She jumped back into her seat and hit the controls as fast, and hard, as she could. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she lifted the ship off the hanger floor as soon as she felt the rumble of the engine.

They flew out the Executor hanger. The distant Imperial assault ships drew ever nearer. Thankfully, they were not dreadnaught. Dreadnaughts could emit a field that stopped Hyperspace travel.

"You better be right about this PROXY..."

"You will find I am rarely wrong, Mrs. Juno. Now may I suggest we- fly over there!" It suddenly pointed in another direction to her right.

"PROXY! What are you-" Juno looked in the direction the droid was pointing in and saw that the bridge of the Executor had its glass blown out. "Damn, what happened there?"

"Go there now!"

"We need to get out of here!"

"Master Starkiller is there!"

... It took her a second or two to process that. "What?!"

"Master Starkiller is in space! Rescue and then fleeing is now looking to be a very good option!"

Over the course of their brief conversation, they neared the glass in space and Juno realized one of the shapes was indeed a living person. "Oh, my God! PROXY, take the controls!" She jumped out of her seat and scrambled through the cabinets for an oxygen mask. "Guide us so the door is right next to him after I open it!"

She strapped the mask on and took a deep breathe of man-made oxygen. It was crisp and tasteless and slightly nauseating, but the alternative would be a lot worse. She hit the door switch, and all oxygen, and a fair number of objects, flew out the door scattering the glass further. She heard her heartbeat in her ears and all other sound ceased in the zero-oxygen atmosphere.

PROXY was not a crack pilot, but it was able to gently push them right up to Starkiller. Juno reached out, grabbed his feet, pulled him in, and immediately shut the door. The room depressurized and Juno was able to hear again something besides her own breathing and heartbeat.

Starkiller's lips were deathly blue and his chest wasn't expanding. "He's not breathing!" She struggled to get the oxygen mask on his face and started pumping his chest. The oxygen mask would force air into him without her having to take her hands off his heart to give him mouth to mouth.

"May I suggest we remember the Empire will be on us in a matter of seconds? Fighters are incoming!"

"Then you do it! I'm a bit busy here!"

"Where shall I enter coordinates into the navcomputer?"

"I don't care! Anywhere but here!"

"Anywhere but here! Got it!" PROXY all but saluted as it ran its mechanic fingers over the controls. "Hang on."

Juno stopped pumping Starkiller's chest long enough to grab both him and something nearby. The ship briefly shook as it entered Hyperspace and she immediately returned to doing CPR. A few seconds later he gasped for air, and Juno was startled enough to fall back. Starkiller didn't open his eyes, but he was breathing. Juno tenderly removed the mask from his face and let him breathe the ship's cold air. Juno put a hand to her forehead to wipe away the sudden perspiration and realized she was shaking and gently crying. She wiped her tears and struggled to control her breathing.

The last minute had been... shattering. One minute she was a loyal servant of the Empire. The next... she was on the run struggling to keep alive a man her life now depended on. She leaned back against the bulkhead, put her head against her knees, and struggled to catch up with what had just happened.

"Mrs. Juno. May I suggest we find a nearby hospital pending us doing emergency medical treatment?"

"Why?" She asked. She was fine and Starkiller was breathing again.

"Master Starkiller is dying."

She looked up to see what it meant and gasped. She hadn't taken the effort to see how badly hurt Starkiller was... but now... it was a wonder he was alive. He was covered in inflammation, deep bruises reminiscent of shattered bones, there was a small hole through his stomach, and he was bleeding out of his head and stomach, and judging from one of the deep bruises on his face and forehead, he might very well have a major concussion.

"Yeah, let's... let's do that." She could do some bandaging and make stilts to straighten his arms and legs in, as they were all bent unnaturally, but that was the extent of what she could do here. They would need a good medical droid or something.

Along with their contents of medical supplies was medifoam, medigel, rags, and she could make stilts out of leather and piping. The medifoam, once sprayed into his stomach wound, expanded and closed it off. The medigel seeped into his skin to reduce bruising and close off the smaller cuts and swelling. The rags were drenched in cold faucet water and applied to his head, while the stilts were wrapped around his limbs tightly with leather. Under the circumstances it was the best she could do.

* * *

**Note: Welcome to a new fiction I am working on. With my main focus being on the 'In the Path of Revan' series, then this story will be put on the back pedal.****Hopefully I won't have to put this story into my personal archives to get back to, but we shall see. I like the idea of exploring Starkiller from a different angle. My 'In the path of Revan' has a small gathering, so I feel obligated to writing that more anyway.**

**Here is a factoid incase no one knew this.**

**The name Starkiller is based on a character from The Knights of the Old Republic. A Mandalorian you fight in the gladiator arena named "Bendak Starkiller". **

**Betcha didn't know that.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything, so no sue!**

**Remember to Review. I want to know what you think and how the chapter is to you. Is it good? Is it bad? Anything I need to know? Any ideas or things you want to see in the future?**.


	2. S01 Ep02

"Through the Force, things you will see. Other places. The future. The past. Old Friends long gone." - Yoda

**-Juno Eclipse-**

**-Nar Shadaa-**

Juno landed the Rogue Shadow on a pier jetting out of a disgusting excuse for a building. She checked around for scum, and found few more than beggars. That was a common a sight here as grass would be elsewhere, but sometimes the beggars spread rumors and information for food or a credit. Here, they'd kill for a credit.

"Welcome to the armpit of the galaxy, PROXY." She muttered.

"This is hardly an armpit, Mrs. Eclipse. It is a series of buildings covered in trash and uncivilized organics."

"Exactly." She turned off the power, save for the security systems, and secured the ship. A blaster in her belt, a handful of credits, and Starkiller's hooded jacket (even though it's not her size) would do her far better here than Starkiller's methods would. He's unconscious anyway. The constant groaning coming from him worried her.

How much time did they have left? They were running out of medifoam and it hadn't been that long. He was growing increasingly pale. The only consolation she had was that the medifoam was staving off infection and numbing the pain.

She checked on Starkiller one last time and, even though it wasn't time yet, gave him another dose of everything she had available. "PROXY, make sure no one comes to the ship without me. The ship's guns are still operational, and the engines can be flashed back on in seconds. I'm going to see what I can do to find a doctor."

Juno entered the streets of lower Nar Shadaa.

Nar Shadaa was technically an Imperial world, but unofficially it was Hutt territory. The Hutts paid homage to the Emperor, and in return were left as governors of the systems. They even had their territory expanded in proportion to how wealthy they made Emperor Palpatine.

Every credit came out of the pocket of their citizens, and it showed. The only way to find work, or payment, was to work for a gang. Every gang was run by a minor Hutt that paid homage to a higher Hutt, and so the system continued up to the most powerful Hutts, the Cartel.

Gangs also fought over territory. Territory equaled people, and people equaled money and workers. In other words: slaves or indentured servants. Indentured servants were less costly and more lucrative, so there were more of those, while slaves were more a symbol of status.

It also made an incredible place if you wanted to disappear.

Juno came to an impasse where she saw a number of armed guards in the distance. Behind said guards, the streets were cleaner and people more depressed, if that was possible, than the beggars outside the perimeter.

Not yet ready to deal with them, Juno turned back and approached one of the isolated beggars. The alien turned pitiful, broken eyes on her, and she lowered herself down to his (she assumes he's male) level.

With a slow hand she pulled out ten credits. The alien's eyed widened, and a hand outstretched, but she pulled back. Catching on, the alien asked, "What do you want?"

"What gang owns this sector?"

"Nal Bar'Sai." He whispered.

She handed him ten credits... and he licked them. Okay... Whatever, she pulled out another ten, and asked, "Do you know any doctors hired there?"

He nodded, yes.

"One with supplies and skill for surgery?"

He hesitated, and shook his head. "Not that I know of." He clarified.

"I see." A doctor was better than nothing, and people in the medical profession often kept tabs on each other so they could send patients to where they were needed if it required specialization. At worst the doctor could lessen the damage and provide contacts, and at best he could do it himself, provided she could get in contact with him to begin with. Still, it was something. "Half is what I don't want, but half is what I do. So here." She handed him five credits, and he thanked her while hastily stuffing them in his pockets with a wide grin.

Now... a place to live and hold out for a while and to get a doctor. She had barely a thousand credits on her. That would be enough to live off of for... a year if she rationed everything against the rent, but it would not be enough for Starkiller's surgery. She wasn't a doctor and she knew at a glance that the price of his medical care would be extensive. Black Market level at this rate.

He would probably need a partial stomach graft, and to be put on the top of the waiting list ASAP.

She would have to sell the ship. That would tide them over if she could haggle it in their favor.

She threw the cloak over herself and walked by the guards, until one stopped her. A bribe, and down two hundred credits later, she had entry into gang territory. The people and streets were less filthy, but the eyes had taken a turn for the hostile. She was swimming with sharks now. She kept a hand on her blaster and a wary eye out as she searched around.

Information was like any other commodity. It had demand and supply. And like anything with both demand and supply, it had cost. Cost that was only compounded by urgency. Down another hundred credits, and she had the name and location of every doctor within a fifteen kilometer radius.

Now the danger came down to people noticing she was passing around credits like candy. The fact that she had credits to bribe around was, in and of itself, a piece of information to be sold to anyone with the hunger to acquire them in less than proper means. The guards were necessary, and so was the shop keeper from whom she learned further information on the doctor, and the beggar from whom she learned that her journey here was less likely to be a waste of nerf-poodoo. But it was still risky, and best for her not to show any credits around again. Eyes were already on her.

The closest doctor was ten minutes away, and the rest varying from half an hour to an hour away. Including higher or lower floors. After putting her blaster to the skull of two pickpockets, and firing a warning shot at a group of teenagers with lecherous looks in their eyes, she had met each doctor.

Despite the pathetic state of this sector, the doctors were actually decent. Two of them were close to capable of what she needed, and then it came down to haggling over price of the surgery, on top of getting 'Bendek' (as she named Starkiller) to the top of the list. It took the rest of her credits to get him to the top of the list, and that didn't include acquiring the stomach yet to create the graft from or the surgery. Unfortunately that would just come down to the doctors making a proper comparison of him and the black market stock for a half-way decent match.

Getting back out of the gang territory was easier than getting in, but much more nerve wrecking. She wasn't sure of the guards would let her back out without a bribe, and she was broke.

They let her out with nothing more perverted smiles, whistles, and a wave.

She slammed the Rogue Shadow door shut and yelled, "GRAAH! I need a shower! Three hours in that place and I feel filthier than if I rolled around in mud! How is he?"

"He is declining at the expected rate." PROXY reported.

She stared at him. "I don't know how you managed to make that sound horribly depressing in such a casual tone... but you did. See if you can find anything around the ship we can sell on the black market that we won't be needing after we sell off the ship."

"Have you found a new place of residence?"

"Not yet, it's a bit down on my to-do list." She was not looking forward to going back out there. She was used to professionalism and military correctness. She knew how men were, and saw it in small quantities even in the military, but the openness of vile thoughts earlier made her feel utterly disgusted and vulnerable as a woman.

She busied herself with downloading maps and what information she could off the holonet. It was horribly patched data, but enough to find her way around. "Found much, PROXY?"

"Yes, Mrs. Eclipse." The droid motioned to a collection of objects it had compiled to sell.

She surveyed them. Many of them were based on PROXY's racist views of being a droid, but it had a good grasp of what had value and what did not. They were everyday objects found on a ship, but she could tell they would get them something while not being necessary for their survival.

"This'll do." She dumped it all in a bag and opened the door again to depart. "I'll find us a buyer. Can you get Starkiller ready to be moved?"

PROXY looked at its master and back at her. "I do not believe he is ready to be moved, no matter what I do."

"I know... just... try to make it easier."

"I will see what I can do." It acknowledged.

She grabbed the few credits they had left lying around and left. Selling things on the black market was more difficult than simple bribery or threats, as it was a mobile enterprise or a very hidden one. Either way it required information... So a bribe later, she was back in the gang territory with a bag full of goods on her back. She kept to the side streets, but that didn't stop thieves.

A man grabbed her and pulled her into a back alley with a knife. "Well, aren't you a pretty little thing? What are you hiding behind all that hood? Here, let me be a gentlemen and help you with your burden."

She didn't move against the knife, but she still drew her pistol without moving or him noticing. "Oh, I'm sure you aren't much of a gentlemen." She replied while aiming down at his foot.

She fired. He screamed, loosened his grip, and then tried to kill her. There might have been something in there about her being a bitch, she couldn't tell. She was too busy grappling him to the ground and running for her life while clutching the bag.

Juno stopped after she lost sight of him and caught her breathe. Her legs shook and her heart felt like it wanted to jump out of her chest with each beat. "Men..." She hissed. "Nothing like this would happen in the Imperial army. Why... why did I have to take that assignment..." She had been ordered by Vader to be his agent's pilot, and she accepted.

She should have checked the fine print. She didn't know that Vader, or someone equal, would turn on her. She made sure not to know too much beyond what she needed, so that they couldn't say 'she knew too much'. She did as she was told, asked for minimal information, did her job, and tried to get to know the cold teenager to keep it from being a horrible job.

Judging from how hurt Starkiller was, he had been caught in something too. The question was: what? What had happened? She doubted the fleet had arrived JUST for her, she was just a simple pilot. The better alternative to removing her would have been to send Starkiller after her. They may have warmed up enough to joke around a bit, but she had no doubt he would do it if ordered to.

So, with that considered, she was not the target. She was not the reason the fleet had arrived. She was little more than a side dish in something much much bigger. But this only returned to the question of what that was. She was completely out of the loop. She knew Starkiller was hunting Jedi, but then that was considered the duty of all Imperials to go after criminals. She would take a shot at Jedi if she was told. Hunting Jedi wasn't some big top-secret thing like System 51.

Something was going on, and Starkiller was at the very heart of it. That was the only thing she could conclude. All of her hopes and nightmares lay on him. On one hand, he was the key to getting back with the Empire. On the other hand, he, or what he was involved in, was the reason she wasn't. So could he even fix this?

She sighed. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't just grasp at straws to figure out what was going on. She had to work with what she knew, and what she knew, was that Starkiller was dying and needed her.

Even if he wasn't the key to saving her career, or life, it was at least her duty to help. That's what she believed people should do for each other.

After a time she came across a market of some kind and sold everything she had on her. She had no idea if it was the black market. She didn't know, didn't ask, and, frankly, didn't care. She sold everything for as much as she many credits as she could get, but she couldn't shake the feeling she had been cheated. She had priced everything in her mind. She had haggled up to stay near the estimated range. Yet the atmosphere of the place kept her on edge and questioning every word and every smile. Especially the smiles. They reeked of greed and desire.

Selling the ship was the hard part. She knew the schematics of the ship by heart. Its engine, shielding, warp drive statistics, its gunnery, its hidden compartments and visible ones. Its bonus little utilities such as landing gear that could work with more environments than normal. She didn't know the exact dimensions of every room, but she could give enough of an idea to get the point across. But despite all of her knowledge, she needed to find a buyer she could trust wouldn't cut the price in half over the slightest scratch.

* * *

**-Darth Vader-**

**-Coruscant Senate Building-**

Darth Vader stood in the shadows overlooking the Senate. His presence was known, but hushed. The parasites wanted to live in their little fantasies that they were unwatched and able to speak freely. The reality couldn't be further from the truth. Every word was analyzed because... as loathe as it was to admit, they were corrupt. The senate was no less corrupt now than it was before the Empire. A corruption Vader intended to see blotted out.

There were many forms of corruption, but the ones he kept his attention on were the money grubbers who sold planets for money and rebels.

As if a hypocritical twist of fate, Vader still hung onto some core principles from his youth in regards to the Senate. They were necessary, but now, as Vader, he had the power and right to do what he finally felt he needed to do to blot out the evil within the Senate. In a way, he was himself a necessary evil. Any creation that existed without competition would inevitably consume itself by its own hubris, and the Senate was no less of an example. Without another force for it to answer to, it had become corrupt, hence: Vader.

With the Senate meeting over, Vader stepped back into the shadows and found his master. He bowed his head, and stayed silent.

"So... Lord Vader." The old man started, "What did you find?"

"Even as the Senate loves you with their mouths, their hearts are against you. I sensed a great many lied, but did not distinguish which ones. They are at odds with you. They are growing afraid."

"Yes... and while that fear is proper, their lies are not. Fear breeds caution. Lies breed conflict and civil war... Especially from this accursed Delegation of 200... Many will die at the whims of a few..." Palpatine said sadly.

Vader knew better. Palpatine wasn't sad. He actually found minor conflict entertaining. Still, Palpatine was leading the conversation in a certain direction. "What is your will, my master?"

Palpatine looked out into the bright streets of Coruscant and said, "Corruption and decay is like a tumor in the brain. Trying to blot it out your way is like hitting a man in the face with a hammer... We must use a more precise tool. A little more subtlety. We must coax out the corruption and... snip it off. Find a way to do this, Lord Vader. Be ruthless. Show no mercy." He ordered. "And do not think I have forgotten your recent... acquisition."

Vader waited a single moment to see if anything would follow. Of course, Palpatine would not forget he had trained a youngling to eventually kill him. Palpatine had turned him into something his wife could not understand...

Seeing as how Palpatine had nothing more to follow, Vader nodded and said, keeping his hatred carefully concealed. "As you wish, my master."

* * *

**-Juno Eclipse-**

**-Nar Shadaa-**

"PROXY? PROXY? You there?" Juno whispered into the shadows. She entered the apartment building and looked around. The apartment was empty of anything and everything. "PRO-"

"Yes, Mrs. Eclipse?" PROXY said from behind her.

Juno jumped in surprise. PROXY shut the door and placed a lightsaber inside its chest cavity, "It is good you spoke when you entered. Otherwise your head might have rolled. I am most pleased I have not had to remove you before master."

"Yes... your welcome." She said, unsure how to respond. She had been gone most of the day. "How is he?"

"Continuing to decline at the expected rate."

"I really need to stop asking you... I sold the ship and have a doctor standing by. Is Starkiller ready to be moved?"

"He is as ready as he was before." PROXY stated happily.

It creeped her out how it could state such morbid things with glee. "Okay... well... let's go. Where is he?"

"Back here!" PROXY showed her a back room where Starkiller was tucked away against the wall. He was shaking, sweating, and his breathing was acting up again. The last of their medifoam was wearing out.

"You take the legs, I'll take the arms. We need to move carefully, but swiftly." Juno instructed. She grabbed him by the shoulders and slowly lifted. Starkiller groaned painfully and cried out at one point.

"On your command." PROXY responded. It lifted Starkiller's legs onto its shoulders and Starkiller lifted on the ground between them.

"One... two... go." Juno started back pedaling towards the door, and after kicking it open, hauled Starkiller down the hall, down the stairs, out the door, and through the streets. People scattered or watched warily as they moved him. He was not near as heavy as Juno expected.

"Mrs. Eclipse. There are hostiles watching us."

"I know..." She trained a wary eye on the gatherings of punks in every alley way. She felt vulnerable. They couldn't move Starkiller properly like... with a vehicle or something. They had to walk him. There wasn't even a taxi! No stretchers. They had nothing. She had paid every credit, just short of how much they would need to potentially bribe people more, to the doctor from their ship's capital.

Juno didn't let herself think about what to do after they had Starkiller on the doctor's table. The possibilities terrified her, almost as much as the wolfish look everyone was giving them. If they attacked, Juno or PROXY would have to drop Starkiller in order to defend them. They could fight off these punks easily, but Starkiller might die from shock in the process. "Little faster, PROXY. I'm getting the creeps."

"Roger, roger."

The doctor took one look at the young man being hauled in by the robot and lady and gasped, "oh my... oh, yes, put him on that table there."

The man knocked everything on the table onto the floor and they placed Starkiller on it. A medical droid rolled in, looked at Starkiller, and poked him with its appendages. "Doctor. We must begin surgery immediately."

"I know..." The doctor sighed. He turned to the patient's friends. "What happened to him?"

"I don't know..." She answered honestly.

"Well, the damage is extensive. I'm surprised he is still alive! How much strength does have to hang on through this!? We have the transplant ready. I'll take care of everything from here, but I have to be honest with you... I don't see him surviving. Stomach acid is poison to the body, his inner organs are burned, and his spine has taken irreparable damage. He may have massive internal bleeding and a rib piercing his lung for all I know."

"Watch for major concussion as well." PROXY added.

The doctor stared at it for a long time. "Great... The room is ready. Go wait outside. I'll let you know how it goes when we're done."

"I'll go outside, but I insist PROXY supervise." Juno pointed to the robot.

"What?"

"I insist." She demanded. She didn't trust the doctor. His sympathy could be false and he is actually an organ harvester, or is a scam in general.

The doctor glanced between her and the droid, before submitting reluctantly. "Very well... so long as he doesn't mess up the procedure."

* * *

**-Starkiller-**

**-Somewhere-**

"Well, where the hell am I now?" Starkiller wondered.

He stopped between a group of dense, dark trees. The world shifted around him in an almost dreamlike state, but that did little to make the swamp appear more horrifying. He wasn't scared, but he couldn't deny how spooky it was. It also didn't help that he didn't know how he had arrived here.

He was also lost.

Picking another path through the trees at random, he journeyed onward. It felt like he had been here for days. The trees phased in and out, aged older and younger, and shadows reached out for him. He knew he had to be dreaming, because he didn't hear the squish of water when he stepped in mud, nor did touching the trees with his hand make him feel the wood, even though the branches moved aside for him. A rock path in his way shrank away as though the passage of time was sped up and a crocodile leaped out the water to snag a bird just in front of him, only to pass through him.

Starkiller watched the shadows warily, unable to shake the feeling he was being watched. The animals had passed him by without notice... but someone had.

* * *

**-PROXY-**

**-Nar Shadaa-**

The doctor worked to remove the infected flesh from Starkiller and sow the new stomach lining in. The stomach fluid was pumped out, but it was far too late. Stomach acid had already been sitting inside his body for a long time. His organs had acid burns and poisoning. Starkiller's heartbeats pinged faster and faster with each passing second.

"Not good... not good. come on!" The doctor murmured.

PROXY observed and knew the doctor was taking his work seriously. It could do nothing but stand by and watch. It knew little of medicine beyond the ability to observe vitals, and what it observed did not bode well.

Were they too late?

The machine showing Starkiller's heartbeats went flat and emitted a long, steady screech.

"Nurse!" The doctor barked at the droid. "Get me a-"

* * *

**-Starkiller-**

**-Somewhere-**

The world shifted again, this time in color. Every piece of life Starkiller saw flashed into an almost spectral form, and people appeared. All kinds of people, but three drew his attention. Two people were blue luminescent beings, and the third was a short green toad-man.

The first blue spirit was a tall, wide shouldered, firmly built man with a well-groomed beard and hair to his ears. He held himself with surety and strength. His eyes spoke of wisdom born of experience and difficulty of life, but also the mirth of a slight prankster.

The second blue spirit was a bit shorter, very lanky, and was hooded. He seemed far less comfortable than the first spirit. Either he was naturally skittish or he was unused to being a spirit in Starkiller's dream.

The toad-man sat on a log and talked with them. He was old, very old. It was more than the cane that told Starkiller that, more than the wrinkles, but the general impression he got through the Force was that this toad-man was very very old, and very powerful. Not as powerful as the spirits, as the spirits were without limit by simple nature, but powerful like a cup overflowing in water. If the toad-man was a spirit-dream too, he could be stronger than the spirits.

Starkiller's feet led him to them. Whether by curiosity, Force, or them existing as the only things worth seeing around here. All of the other spirit-dreams were more like shadows and whimsical, unsure even of where they were.

Starkiller stopped by them and looked them over curiously. He didn't know who they were. He recognized their dress as Jedi, but could not place their faces. The two Jedi-spirits in his dream were much younger in form than their eyes seemed to suggest. They couldn't be any older than twenty-five both.

"Anakin worries me greatly," the taller dream-spirit said. "He's so close to finding his daughter. Seven times now he has seen her in the Senate halls with her adoptive father. He needs only one time to make the connection in her face and Padme. She looks so much like her mother."

The second spirit murmured. "The sight of her has to haunt him as it is, like an old wound."

"Be thankful in the Force, we must, that distracted he is in other matters." The toad man nodded in thought.

'Anakin? Who's Anakin? I don't know any Anakins.' Starkiller thought. He figured he must be making names up for his dream.

"And what of the apprentice?" The second spirit wondered of the first two. He sounded worried.

"Yes... what of him." The first spirit turned his head to look straight at Starkiller. Starkiller was briefly surprised. All this time he assumed they didn't know of him. Now his own dream figures was centering their attention on him.

"Well... It is not my wish for him to die in darkness."

"His to make, that choice is." The toad man responded vaguely, also looking straight at Starkiller.

Starkiller grew aggravated. His own dream was having some conversation with itself while looking right at him. That was irritating. "You know, its rude to ignore me." Starkiller said.

"And it is rude to jump into conversations not concerning you." The first spirit responded with a mischievous smile.

Starkiller narrowed his eyes at the man. "I didn't choose to come here, old man. I've been wandering for forever and found myself here."

"No one ever does choose to come here, but then... just how did you come here?"

"Like I said, I've been wandering." Starkiller said, growing impatient.

"That's not what I mean. I mean, how did you come 'here'?"

Starkiller thought about it and glanced briefly at the second spirit. There was something about him that was irking at the back of his mind, but he couldn't place it. He could only see pieces of the man's face. The rest of it was hidden.

But just how did he get here... The last he remembered was-

_"Do it now, Lord Vader! Strike him down and prove your loyalty to me!" The Emperor demanded._

Starkiller gasped and clutched as his stomach, remembering the stab wound... but... there was nothing. But he could feel the ache in his bones and could feel the air leave his lungs in the vacuum of space. But there was also no pain. The ache and hurt was as ghostly distant as the dream-spirits around him, and only growing more and more distant with each passing minute.

* * *

**-PROXY-**

**-Nar Shadaa-**

PROXY watched as the nurse droid had all of its appendages inside Starkiller and the doctor worked while sweat poured off his brow. "I can't... The adrenaline isn't working! He's in cardiac arrest! You!" He pointed at PROXY. "Get the case over there!"

PROXY saw a small box to the side, picked it up, laid it on the table next to the doctor, and opened it carefully. The doctor rushed away from Starkiller to wash his bloody hands in a bowl briefly before grabbing the contents of the box: defibrillators.

"Lift him slightly!"

PROXY lifted Starkiller, gently, off the table by barely an inch, and the doctor scooted a pad under him. "Thanks. My nurse has her hands full. Now move!"

PROXY took a step back and the doctor put an opposite pad over Starkiller's heart.

* * *

**-Starkiller-**

**-Somewhere-**

"I... died." Starkiller realized. His mind reviewed every moment of his death time after time. "I was murdered. I was betrayed! I actually died!" He looked to the spirits in fear. "This... it isn't a dream... is it?"

"I'm sorry..." The second man suddenly said with mourning. "This wasn't what I wanted for you."

Something about the tone in which he said that made the tickling sensation in his mind fire up red flags all over the place, but again, he couldn't put the pieces together. He felt he was looking at a puzzle while only holding two pieces.

Suddenly Starkiller felt, just as much as see, a ripple explode from his chest. The world of spirits and swamps disappeared to darkness only to return the next moment. Starkiller fell to his knees as fire erupted in his stomach and he felt like his bone broke. The pain went away just as quickly.

"What the hell?" Starkiller murmured. He looked up into the face of the second man and gasped. He was looking at himself. "Wha-? Who? Just who are you?"

The spirit did not answer. Rather, the first spirit stepped forward, "Yes... you were betrayed by Darth Vader. I am sorry, but you are dead."

"Then... this...?" Starkiller looked around.

"Is the Force. The Force is, in one sense, the collective consciousness of all who have come before. That is why you can see people, and we can see you."

"Aa..."

A second ripple exploded from Starkiller's chest, and the world disappeared into darkness again. He screamed in pain as, again, he felt his bones broken and abdomen on fire. And again, the darkness disappeared to show the spirits.

"What the hell! What's going on with me?!" Starkiller asked in growing fear. Even as a spirit he shook in fear, remembrance of pain, and still coming to terms with being betrayed by his surrogate father.

"It would appear your companions do not want your time to come, yet." The first spirit said. He smiled warmly. "Congratulations. If the link between body and spirit is still strong, you may not be dead yet."

"Companions?" Starkiller asked himself. Who? He didn't have any friends... He had PROXY, but PROXY's job was to kill him. PROXY would never save him.

A third time a ripple exploded out of his chest, and the darkness stayed longer. When Starkiller returned, screaming in pain, the second man turned away in pain as well.

Starkiller was growing annoyed, and if asked, odds are a good portion of it was anger at his own pain. Pain tended to make him angry. "Okay, really, who are you?! Why do you look like me!?"

The second spirit gulped, unsure about answering... before allowing an answer. "I am your father..."

Starkiller felt a bucket of cold water wash over him, and like that, past and present and future came to him in vivid detail.

A ripple exploded out of his chest, and he saw red as he took Vader's saber from him after he had killed his father.

"I'm sorry." His father whispered.

Another ripple. Starkiller screamed in agony from anewed pain, both real and fictional as he saw himself be betrayed by Vader. The swampy spirit world returned again, and Starkiller realized he was crying. Vader had killed his father... and made him into what he was...

"I'm so sorry..." His father cried.

Yet another ripple erupted from his chest, and ice came over him as Starkiller saw himself on an ice planet be tossed around by Lord Vader. He had created an army, like Vader wanted, and had been betrayed... A second time.

_"You agreed to stay away!" The future Starkiller yelled._

_"I lied, as I have from the very beginning." Future Vader answered. He lifted the future Starkiller up by the Force._

_"You never intended to destroy the Emperor..." Future Starkiller realized._

_"Not with you. No." Future Vader answered._

The ice world disappeared back into swamp.

Starkiller felt fury and anger unlike anything he had ever known in his heart. He had given everything to Vader. Even after Vader had betrayed him, he had jumped onto the chance to mean something to him. And again, Vader had betrayed him. He had NEVER meant anything to Vader!

A fourth ripple soon followed by a fifth, sixth, seventh... continuing on into an increasingly rapid series of ripples exploded from his chest beyond his count, until Starkiller almost felt like it was timed to his heart beat. Every ripple was the beating of his heart.

Then it stopped.

Starkiller appeared again within the swamp, but the spirits were gone. Alone on the muddy planet, he struggled to his feet. The swamp rained heavily around him. The torrent beat down on him until streams ran down his face and his dark robes clung to his skin. A philosophical man might have remarked that Heaven itself was mocking the young man, reminding him cruelly of his pain, his helplessness within the grasp of a monster, his inability to turn the tables and regain all that he had lost. But had they looked closer, under the hood he found himself wearing, into the mask he suddenly had on, they might have seen Starkiller smiling. For there was much for him to be pleased about. He knew now what Vader intended to do, and wouldn't be caught off guard.

Thunderclaps in the swamp around him drew his attention skyward. In the far distance, a great snake rose. The gigantic snake looked towards the heavens and roared its defiance, a great hydra illuminated by a blue and purple streak of lightning.

A violent thrill bubbled up from Starkiller's toes to his smile. A plan blossomed in his mind, and he laughed. Just as much as the future sought to haunt him and show him how useless resistance was, he found himself planning, plotting, how to turn everything into his favor.

With every plot, the future changed. With the realization of what he had to do, the dice was no longer cast. He could not tell where his plan would take him, nor what the future held anymore, but he didn't need to. He had seen enough to know the truth about Vader.

"Vader wants an army... I'll show him an army." Starkiller declared as the distant monster roared to the heavens.

One last ripple exploded out of his chest, and all he saw was darkness.

* * *

**Note: Let me be clear about something before you get angry. Starkiller will NOT be able to predict every little thing or have future insight into his own plot like a cheap back-to-the-past plot where he suddenly has a solution to every little thing. He won't be able to sit and there and go "okay, Leia is on Kashyyyk, and the senator dude wants her captured, so ill just head to Kashyyyk, get it over with, and then go say hi." No. **

**Starkiller's perception of the future extends only so far as knowing that Vader will want him to make an army, and then will betray him after he has formed a small one. That's it. That is all I have revealed via the story, because that is all he knows.**

**Starkiller does not know who to recruit.**

**Starkiller does not know how to recruit them.**

**Starkiller does not know where to attack.**

**Starkiller does not see anything where he becomes a Jedi or falls in love with Juno or anything.**

**Starkiller DOES know that he had succeeded in forming an army, so he knows he can do it, but he doesn't know who he recruited nor how he did it.**


	3. S01 Ep03

"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars." -Khalil Gibran

**-Starkiller-**

**-Nar Shadaa-**

Starkiller awoke to pain. He didn't know how long it had been since he was stabbed, but, by the Force, it felt like no time had passed. For a brief moment, the only memory he had was of the stabbing, but over the seconds his confusion cleared and he recalled the dream and all he saw. It was hazy at first, but he pushed himself through the webbings and came to clarity.

He opened his eyes and jumped up. A robot near him jumped in surprise and Starkiller looked around the room. He was... He had no idea where he was. Whether that swamp place was a dream, a vision, or something spiritual, he could grasp that it wasn't physical. It was disconnected. So the last 'physical' thing he could remember was being betrayed by Vader.

Was he still in Vader's clutches? Why was he in a lab?

Whether or not this place belonged to Vader or not would soon be revealed. He wasn't restrained, he wasn't held back, there was no armed guards, there was no camera. It was all very unusual. His first instinct was that this place wasn't Vader's, but then he couldn't trust anything with the man anymore.

The droid rushed out of the room.

Starkiller looked at himself. He was wearing a medical gown and had tubes running out of his arms. He followed the tubes up to the bags and read the medical stuff. It was really long words he didn't understand. He wasn't a doctor.

He snapped the tubes out of his arm, disregarding the drops of blood flowing down his arm, and climbed out of bed only to immediately collapsed onto the floor face first. Growling in aggravation, he struggled onto his hands and knees. His legs were asleep and useless weight. His arms shook with the effort.

Just how long had he been in that bed?

Starkiller struggled first to his knees, then in grabbing the bed, hauled himself to his feet and took one tentative step after another. Inch by inch he moved around the bed. The ants crawling all over his sleeping legs gave way to dull pain.

Starkiller made it to the door and glanced out. The place was filthy, dirty, dusty, dark, and otherwise not a nice place to be. The light on the ceiling flickered with age and cracks. There was a door at the far end of the hall with beams of light shooting out from under it.

Starkiller shut the door and looked around. He didn't see any shoes. He opened the door and found some of his old clothes hanging. He stood still a brief moment, listening, trying to see if anyone was coming. He heard nothing.

Starkiller struggled into his clothes as best he could considering his body was asleep and uncooperative. He sat on the bed while he worked his pants on, and jumped up. He had to grab his pants to keep them from falling off.

He had lost weight.

Starkiller growled to himself again, and worried about how long it had been. Just what had happened? Where was he? How long had he been there? There were so many questions and the little things were worrying him.

He left the room. His bare feet brushed through the rusty, oily floor mixed with dust and dirt. He came to the door and felt through the Force. He felt... one person. There were a lot of people around them in the distance. He heard voices from the other side of the door. The droid was alerting someone to the fact that Bendak was awake. Who was Bendak? Is that the name Vader had him under?

Through the slit in the door, Starkiller watched the man, a doctor judging from his apparel, order the droid to go alert Bendak's friends. Meanwhile, the man headed toward the door. Starkiller squeezed himself against the wall as the door flung open to meet his face. The doctor rushed down the hall.

Taking the opportunity, Starkiller slunk out. The room he first entered was a makeshift opperating room surrounded by a curtain, that then opened into an office. The man couldn't afford to separate the rooms it seemed. Starkiller hurried as quietly as he could in the direction the droid had gone. It was the best guess he had.

He glanced behind himself. He heard the doctor call out for Bendak and start slamming doors in the far back, but Starkiller was not up to being caught. He opened the door and tasted fresh air.

Well... as fresh as the environment could offer. The place was filthy, dirty, dark, and an oppressive atmosphere suffocated him. The people's mood for as far as he could see were either predatory or cautious of predators. Loud hover cars flew overhead. Bright lights from advertisement signs burned into his eyes. The world spun around him briefly and he struggled to stay upright. Looking one way or another, hastened by the nearing steps of the man he was escaping, Starkiller rushed into an alley and disappeared into the shadows.

Left to his own devices, Starkiller sat and mused. This place... just where the hell was he? How did he get here? He tried to come to an idea from what he saw and felt around him, but could not. This place could easily be Coruscant, but he didn't see the rounded skyscrapers associated with the pictures of Coruscant architecture.

Starkiller peered around the corner and watched the doctor's office. A thought occurred to him that whoever Bendak's friends were could be why he was here. If they were storm troopers, he would know it was Vader. If it was random strangers, then at least he could figure mercs.

To his surprise, the ones to rush down the street to the door was PROXY and Juno.

It was not quite what he expected, but still steeled his resolve. PROXY, as much as he cared for the droid that had been around him all his life, was still loyal to Vader. It was a part of its programming. Starkiller couldn't be mad or feel betrayed, it was part of the droid's nature. Juno was similar. She was a respected officer of the Empire, and therefore, another of Vader's pawns.

Starkiller turned around, but found he could not move. Not that he didn't want to, but his body didn't obey him. His legs didn't let him leave. No... his legs were fine. He didn't want to leave. Not yet. Not without answers.

**-Everyone-**

**-Nar Shadaa-**

Starkiller entered the room. Before anyone could react, he pulled Juno's pistol from her waist into his hand and pointed it at them.

"Bendak!" "Master!" Juno and PROXY yelled in surprise. The doctor had just been telling them that the patient was missing, but before they could react, he had come at them from behind.

Juno was happy at first to see him, but then the look in his eye stopped her. He was sweating, red in the face, and breathing heavily. He was pushing himself and getting a fever in the process. He was shaking and looking like he was in a lot of pain. But despite how much he could set back his own recovery, he didn't care.

She stared fearfully into his eyes. His eyes were crazed and angry. There was also a pain in them that made her feel that his unrivaled fury wasn't aimed at her, but that was hardly a welcoming realization while looking down the barrel of her own pistol.

She knew he was a powerful agent of Vader, but looking into his eyes, she realized this is what his enemies also had to look at. It was like looking into the eyes of a hungry tiger baring its teeth.

She backed up fearfully into the table behind her and felt her legs shake in terror.

PROXY didn't seem to register an emotional response at all. It was pleased to see its master and didn't care it was down the pistol's sights.

The doctor put his hands up, but otherwise did nothing. In this neighborhood, he was used to danger at the end of a pistol.

Starkiller did nothing but breathe for a bit. He struggled to stay conscious while the world blurred slightly. Through sheer strength of will alone, he held on to his anger and let his pain fuel him.

"Here is how this is going to work..." Starkiller huffed. "I am going to ask questions, and you three are going to answer... Liars get a bolt between the eyes." He stopped because he lost balance for a second. He fixed his aim. "First question: Where are we?"

"Nar Shaddaa." The doctor immediately answered.

Nar Shaddaa... Starkiller recalled. It was where he fought Jedi Master Rahm Kota.

The planet was Imperial controlled, but left to the Hutts to do as they wish so long as they paid homage. There was an Imperial station in orbit and a few bases, but they were there more for the sake of presence than to enforce law or authority.

Starkiller didn't know where on the star map they were, but he could guess they were on the border between the Hutt Cartel and Galactic Empire.

They were in striking distance of Executor.

"Second Question: From you," Starkiller motioned to PROXY with his pistol. "Who knows we are here?"

"There are many who know of us, but the information they have on us varies."

"Then explain it." Starkiller demanded. Again, the world blurred and he struggled to stay on his feet. He didn't notice his pistol arm start to lower on its own. He was more concerned with being awake.

"The Empire know the Rogue Shadow entered this system. Mrs. Eclipse removed the tracking device. We have walked the streets of this sector for some time now. You are known as 'Bendak Starkiller'." PROXY paused.

"Continue."

"Mrs. Eclipse has evaded notice of authority and has low paying jobs. I have evaded notice of authority and been present at your side. The doctor knows you as Bendak and has kept an eye on your recovery."

"So... no one knows we are here...?" Starkiller dropped the pistol in exhaustion.

"Correct. The probability of Imperial authority knowing of us is less than one percent. However, that chance has increased to ten percent if the doctor reveals this conversation to his superiors."

"Hey, hey, hey!" The doctor paled. "I'm just here to patch people up. I don't care if their criminals, storm troopers, girl scouts, or Wookies. So long as you don't get the Emperor himself stepping in my office, I won't breathe a word."

"I can't trust that." Starkiller answered. He struggled to raise his pistol hand again, but Juno grabbed his arm. He didn't have the strength to resist in his sickly state.

"He's had ample opportunity to hand us over, Bendak. If he was going to do it... he would have by now. Especially with you vulnerable for so long."

Starkiller and Juno stared into each other's eyes. She felt the full focus of his fury through his lowering eyelids, but held herself. She didn't go through six months of hell in this male-cesspool for Starkiller to go after the first person he sees. "That doctor, and us, are the only reasons you are alive right now..." Juno reminded him.

That had an effect on him. He looked away and stopped resisting. "Fine. Then, third question: How long was I out?"

"Six months." She answered.

Six months... That was a long time. Starkiller rolled that number around in his head.

Six months ago... he was betrayed. Juno was right. Six months was more than enough time for the doctor to have turned him over to Vader. If Vader knew about him, he would have come by now.

And it also shows how badly he was wounded. Starkiller could tell he was hurt. He slipped in and out of consciousness. His fever grew worse with each second he forced himself to stand. His stomach hurt like hell, and his spine was starting to tingle.

**-Juno Eclipse-**

**-Nar Shadaa-**

"So we're... safe..." Starkiller fainted. Juno grabbed him before he could collapse and held him up.

The doctor rushed over and touched his forehead. "He's burning up! Take him back to his room. Damn, brat! He aggravated his condition!"

Juno and him hauled Starkiller back to his room and laid him down. The doctor started setting up his equipment after Starkiller had disturbed it and prepared some shots and fluids.

"Va... der..." Starkiller mumbled.

The doctor inserted the needles into his veins and looked up to Juno. "Mrs. Eclipse. I don't care to know details, but I don't appreciate having my life endangered unnecessarily. Tell me this honesty: Are you three criminals?"

"I... I don't know." Juno answered. She looked down at the man in concern. "I know something went down with... our employer, but only he knows what. I was just a pilot passing through... Um. How long until he is able to be up and around?"

The doctor hummed to himself in thought. "When his fever passes he will be able to sit up in bed. He will need a week of mild-muscle stimulants. After that, he can leave."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. You paid me and have helped around by keep the thieves off my back. If anything, you should be more worried about when he realizes your droid lied about your living conditions."

Juno frowned. That was a touchy subject with her. "I'm sure we will approach it when its time... for now, I'd rather not have him worry. I will see you tomorrow." She left.

True to the doctor's words, they had lied about their living conditions. Starkiller was so out of it, he didn't notice how ragged her clothing had become, how dusty and filthy the two of them were, or how Juno was substantiously thinner than before.

Six months in this place was difficult. Even more so when you have convictions to stand by. She had tried finding work as a waitress or cleaner some place, but the expectations for females dress code was... unbecoming.

There were other jobs. Jobs that paid well that she felt she could do. She could was a skilled pilot after all. But every job she could find was either already taken by a droid that was at a droid's minimum wage. (Since droids don't need to eat, just have repairs, their minimum wage is ten percent of an organics.) Or the job was taken by an indentured servant, basically a slave. Or it required information that was she was not comfortable providing yet.

Until Starkiller could wake up and explain to her what was going on and where they stood, she chose to be extremely cautious and not get into a position to be giving out anything on them. The last thing she needed was a blood sample, finger print, name, or photo landing on the holonet for the Imperial Shadow Agencies to grab a hold of.

That left her on the streets for six months and she sure as hell wasn't going to be a prostitute.

PROXY didn't have the same moral concerns she did and was able to resort to low level stealing and doing small-time jobs, such as being a taxi driver. PROXY could use its holographic hardware to go around without cause or concern. The only setback with it was fuel, which it stole by tapping into the electric wiring someplace. So what little credits it made was put into keeping the two of them going and paying for anything extra the doctor needed for Starkiller's care, which happened twice.

They were more or less hobos. The hobo Juno originally met took a liking to her and let the two of them to share his place, which was little more than a hole in the wall. PROXY observed at the alien had a crush on her. She felt a bit guilty taking advantage of it; but they needed a place to stay, and they helped around a little bit by keeping him from being molested or bullied.

In the end, it was a rough six months.

Juno found PROXY and they returned to the hole in the wall. In the corner was her cot, little more than a filthy blanket on the ground, and a candle they had scrounged up in a trash bin. On the opposite side of the hole was the owner's stuff. It wasn't that impressive. It was a collection of green credit chips. They were single credits, but she quickly came to learn he had an obsession with green chips. They weren't money to him... he liked licking them. They were shiny.

She tried explaining to him the monetary value of his green chips, and he just responded that they were shiny. He didn't get it.

Juno sat down on the sheet and took off her shirt. She bathed in a fountain with other homeless woman once a week, so she was at least remotely clean. She used her shirt to clean her pistol. Without a proper rag, or oil, it was the best she could do. The one thing they still owned was that pistol that kept them alive.

"Shall I go buy some bread, Mrs. Eclipse?" PROXY inquired.

"No. Not today. Save what few credits we do have for the muscle stimulants. I have a feeling it may cost extra... You may have to steal from those guards again to get it."

"I can steal bread too." The droid reminded her.

"I would rather have you stealing from scum with credits to spare than those without. If those gang members can afford bitches and poker every night, I'm sure they can do without periodically."

The droid nodded and disappeared into thin air with its holographic imaging. Juno returned to cleaning her pistol. It was something she did every morning and every evening to stay sane. Once she was done, she leaned back, closed her eyes, and sighed. She had been exhausted before, but this was different. This wasn't a quick sprint that left her breathless. This wasn't boot camp that left you sore. This wasn't a sickness that sapped at her energy. This was a long exhaustion born of malnutrition, disease, poor living conditions, and endless stress of surviving on this repulsive planet. "One more week..." She told herself.

**-Starkiller-**

**-Nar Shadaa-**

The week went by pretty quickly. Starkiller came in and out of consciousness for short intervals. He was apprised of his situation further, but there wasn't much else to discuss yet. Once the fever passed, the doctor applied muscle stimulants. Juno entered his room to find hundreds of needles sticking out of his body in acupuncture. Every needle had a small coating of the stimulant, and the insertion stimulated his nerve endings. The process woke up his bodies need for muscle that had degeneration in six months.

And you can lose a lot of weight and muscle in a week. Starkiller was even worse than Juno by the time the process started. Most of his muscle mass was gone and left him stickily.

For a week the needles were applied repeatedly with small doses of the stimulant, and the effect was immediate. The man with no muscle left had it growing again.

So when Starkiller finally was fully awake and lucid, he was ravenous. The lack of eating solid food and stimulants increasing his metabolism meant that they had to get a lot of protein and meats for him, but for now it had to be broth or rice. His stomach had shrunk and he couldn't process heavy food for a while.

"This sucks." He complained. "I hate rice."

"Would you rather I eat it?" Juno asked.

He eyed her. He hadn't realized yet just how bad things had been for everyone, but it didn't pass him that she looked as hungry as he was. He had never had rice before now, and he could say without a doubt he didn't like it. It was plain rice. The broth he could stand, and even like, but the rice was just disgusting.

"No... its fine." He grumbled.

She smiled tightly and put the spoon up to his mouth. The sight aggravated him, but he opened his mouth. With so many needles sticking out of him, he couldn't move. Doctor's orders.

He swallowed and glared at her. "This part sucks even more than the rice..."

"Yes, well. It's not been much of a picnic for the rest of us either." She put another spoonful in his mouth. Five spoonful's and two swallows of broth was all he was allowed with his stomach so far.

"Hm..." He muttered with his mouth chewing. He swallowed. "You still haven't told me how the last six months have gone. There are things you're not telling me. For one thing, your skin is turning yellow and you shake uncontrollably. That can't be right."

She didn't answer.

Starkiller rolled his eyes. "Go ahead and have the rest. Best that it doesn't spo-... wow." She had already eaten it . "Okay. I guess you were hungry... Come on, Juno. Don't eat my food in one gulp and tell me something isn't right."

He stared at her and she did her best to avoid his gaze, but he was persistent. It was one of the things she had come to learn about him. He was patient in a passive-aggressive way. When he wanted something, he stared until he got it. His blank, empty, waiting, patient gaze reminded her of Vader's oddly enough. Perhaps that is where he got it from. It was also intimidating most of the time, except this time. This time he looked concerned.

She finally relented. "Fine... you know the fact that humans can go an extended period of time without eating?"

He nodded slowly. "Eleven days without water. Thirty without food. Depending on the environment. I once went twenty-one days without food as part of my training."

"Yes... well..." She hesitated. She didn't know that about him. What kind of training involved starvation like that? Add that to the list of facts that painted a picture of Starkiller that scared her and gave her a feeling she had bit off more than she could chew with this assignment. "I came to learn how true that is. Two weeks. Almost on a regular basis."

Starkiller stared at her long and hard, this time processing the information instead of wanting her to do anything. His eyebrows had shot up in surprise when he heard and she couldn't look him in the eye. It felt shameful, almost like a weakness that she had to endure starvation off and on.

"Why?" He asked.

She shrugged. "When you sell a ship, goods, clothes, and... everything else for medicine, there isn't much left for other things. Such as dresses and polished boots." She joked, but it fell flat. He only stared at her harder. He clearly was not taking it well, but she wasn't sure why. He looked... angry.

"Why would you do that?" He demanded in a whisper.

"Why?" She responded dumbfounded. Her voice rose steadily. "Why?! Hey, unless you missed out on a few facts, here's a reminder! You had a hole in your gut, most of your bones broken, and let's not forget the kicker: you DIED on the operating table for a whole ten minutes! I'm sorry, but that's expensive!"

"I realize that." He said patiently. "But why would you not let me die?" She opened her mouth to argue, but he interrupted. "You could have easily have just left me and moved on and escaped back there. Instead, you grabbed me, took me here, and got me patched up. What can you possibly hope to gain from that?"

She jumped up, infuriated. "Excuse me?! Gain from that?! I'm sorry, but is it not the proper thing to just do what you can to help!? I didn't think about handing your body over to just graveskeeper for an extra credit when I saw you dangling in space, my first thought was 'Oh shit, a friend's in trouble!'"

"I didn't mean it like-!"

"There were storm troopers breathing down our damn necks, I was molested and preyed on by scum for months, and we honestly thought we were too late to save you despite us throwing away our damn lives to do it! I'm sorry, but the least I can hope to gain is some gratitude!" She slammed down the bowl and stormed out.

"Juno!" He yelled after her, but she didn't come back. "Damn woman..."

He looked at the bowl and remembered how hungrily she had eyed his own food and how quickly she ate. He considered her condition and concluded she had suffered greatly for him.

It's not like he wasn't grateful.

The only thing he couldn't figure out was why. Why would she go so far for him? She was just his pilot. She wasn't a friend. She had no real ties to him except shipping him around on a few missions. And as nice company as she was those times, he didn't see himself as being anything more than a package to deliver from her perspective.

There was no logical reason in his eyes to save, which perplexed him greatly. His freshly betrayed side screamed that she was using him for her own means, but he couldn't see the point in it. If she really was using him... then... why go so far?

She made no sense. At least PROXY he could figure as going by its programming.

The next day she didn't show up. It was PROXY this time, and it wasn't near as interesting to talk with.

The day after that he was discharged, and thereafter kicked out, of the doctor's office. Starkiller plucked the final needle out and pulled on his clothes. His entire body ached like someone was shoving iron in his skin, but he was better. Now he was able to move again, albeit tenderly.

Juno and PROXY waited for him outside. Juno didn't say a word to him, and he just rolled his eyes. PROXY led them to the place they were staying.

Starkiller gaped.

He wasn't much on showing emotion, and he was visibly stunned by the conditions he saw, which only made Juno madder out of embarrassment.

"What the actual hell?" Starkiller looked at the collection of single credits.

"Ah, yes. Our mutual roommate has an eccentric love for green credit chips." PROXY explained.

"Yeah, I can see that..." He extended his hand slowly.

"He likes to lick them." Juno said.

And his hand was promptly returned. That was not a subject he was going to get into with a ten foot pole. That was too weird. "Thanks for the warning."

With his help, they got a small fire going. Juno still hadn't talked to him, and Starkiller decided to let her brood. He would be able to express gratitude when she opens up again without hitting a wall.

But he did decide on at least one thing. Staring into the fire, Starkiller said, "Vader tried to kill me."

That broke the ice. "What?" Juno gasped. PROXY didn't say anything, but the sudden snap of its head showed surprise well enough.

Starkiller closed his eyes and remembered the events and the pain. He remembered the visions he saw. How Vader would turn on him again if he returned to Vader's side.

But... then he didn't know if he should or not. If he returned to Vader, he could fight him from under his own nose. If he didn't, Vader would go after him without compromise or warning should he ever be found out.

That's a dilemna he would leave for later. For now, perhaps just telling Juno about himself was what was needed. She knew nothing about him while he knew everything. It was only fair he returned the favor, now that their position was more... mutual.

"I was raised by Vader." Starkiller explained. He felt empty inside having to recall everything. "My parents died in the battle of Kashyyyk and Vader found me. He saved my life from his own men, killing them in the process, and gave me a purpose. For years I trained, endured physical and mental trauma, and grew strong for the singular purpose of becoming his tool. His weapon. His loyal dog. My life was his to use. My death was for his gain. As a weapon, it was my life job to bring his enemies to justice. PROXY was my primary training droid with the job to kill me if my skills ever lacked. Juno, you were assigned to me to secretly shuttle me to where my targets were, that I might kill them."

"Jedi..." She guessed.

Starkiller nodded numbly. "I'm not surprised you figured it out. Anyway..." He hesitated. "Vader's greatest plot was to eventually use me to kill Palpatine."

Juno gasped in horror. She looked at him in a new light. Before she was a little mad at him, and feeling useless for being out of the loop, but now she was terrified. "K-k-kill P-Palpatine?!" She whispered.

Again, he nodded. "Palpatine found out and gave Vader a choice. Kill me. Or we fight him." Starkiller tenderly probed his stomach. With his shirt raised, he could tell the shading of his new skin was different. The scar was evident. "His choice was obvious."

Juno could only stare at him in shock and horror.

Starkiller continued, "You were probably approached by the Stormtroopers for knowing too much about me, and for that I am sorry. If it is any consolation, if I had any idea what would happen, I would have ordered you to get out of there long before anything came down. I purposefully tried to keep you from being in a position to know too much... but unfortunately it didn't matter. Doesn't matter... not anymore."

"So... we're... criminals?" She tried to come to terms with it.

"No." Starkiller snapped. "I gave my loyalty, my life, and everything that I am to Vader, and he betrayed it. You served like a good soldier, and were betrayed as well. We are not criminals."

Juno tried to work it out and say something, but everytime it looked like she had put words together, she failed. She curled up in an angry ball. "Damnit... damnit. Damnit! damnitdamnitdamnitdamnit!" She cried. "I thought that once we know what had happened, we could fix it and get back to our lives. I put a lifelong career into the Imperial navy! I come from generations of loyal soldiers to the Republic!"

"Is that... why you saved me?" Starkiller wondered carefully.

"No!" She snapped at him. "I should be allowed to damn well wish for some hope in this hellhole, hope to be able to fix everything and get our lives back to where they belong, but I saved you because it was the right thing to do, and I'm not going to regret that."

He stared at her. Just because 'it was the right thing to do' never crossed his mind. That felt... alien to him. It was illogical. There was little to gain for it. It was... practically nothing but sentiment and loyalty.

'Loyalty...' He concluded to himself.

He had been betrayed by the man he had known his whole life only to find loyalty in a woman he had known for only a short time in small intervals. He found himself truly smiling for the first time since he had come to learn of the betrayal. "Thank you. Sorry about... earlier... and the time before that... with the gun." He looked away in embarrassment. "I wasn't very... lucid."

She smiled in thanks. "You're welcome. Now I can understand why you were acting irrational. It had to have felt like no time had passed."

'Not quite...' He thought but he said outloud, "I don't truly understand why you did it. 'doing the right thing' isn't something I'm used to. But I do understand loyalty. Thank you."

She seemed to accept that, but the mood was still heavy. "Now what shall we do, Master?" PROXY inquired.

"Now, PROXY, I suggest we sleep. Walking here left me tired, and I'm sure you two have a lot to sleep on."

Juno nodded with a deep frown. "I am fully capable of processing information while awake as well as asleep." PROXY aruged.

Starkiller chuckled. "I'm sure you can, but do it anyway."

"Very well." PROXY walked over to a corner and shut down.

Juno crawled onto the blanket and curled up in a ball. Starkiller glanced around for where he would sleep and... slowly came to realize how few places there were. 'Well, shit...' Starkiller slowly crawled over behind Juno and laid down with his back to her. She didn't argue.

"I am still mad..." She whispered.

"I know." He said just as quietly.

"My life is ruined... I will need time to process this, and a good portion of me wants to blame you."

He sighed. "For what it's worth, I am sorry you got involved. I cannot promise we will have stable lives again, but I can see how much you two have gone for me... and I will do everything I can to get us... out of this dump. Loyalty is everything to me, and you two have shown more than I could have ever hoped for when I believed I was alone. That means a lot to me."

They didn't say anything more that night.


	4. S01 Ep04

"The military don't start wars. Politicians start wars." - William Westmoreland

**-Grand Moff Linkin-**

**-Imperial Space Station orbiting Nar Shadaa-**

Linkin hated his job. He hated Hutts. Conveniently, that's where he was placed. He was given absolute authority over Nar Shadaa and the surrounding system, and that meant he had to deal with a lot of Hutts.

They were slimy, scheming, back biting, greedy, cold-blooded, and, if he might add a personal jab, fat. He had to have his office doors rebuilt just to fit their fat asses in.

Of course, being Governor had its perks. It meant he got to tell them what to do.

So as much as he hated dealing with Hutts and the corruption, it also gave him a special amount of satisfaction to make three sit in front of him and sweat. any other day that would have been the case, but this was special. Lord Vader himself was on his back, and he was not happy.

That meant he wasn't happy. "Here is where we stand Gentlemen..."

The three Hutts fidgeted nervously as he sat at his desk passively and stared at them from behind his clasped hands. "Six months ago, our radar picked up the Rogue Shadow entering orbit. Six months ago, Vader put out the bounty on one Juno Eclipse. Six months ago, you were supposed to be searching for her." He scanned his eyes over them slowly. "Now... would anyone care to explain the fruits of your... 'efforts'? Anyone? Anyone? No one? Okay, I'll put my hand up." He put his hand up. "A ship owned by some random goon of yours, with a wiped memory, AND NO ECLIPSE!" He slapped the desk.

The three jumped and one of them spilled wine on his chest. Their slaves hurried to wipe it up. Linkin eyed the slaves. Slavery was allowed in the Empire, but he had... personal preferences. Which only made him feel sicker towards the Hutts. Because while the Empire enslaved prisoners of war or criminals, the Hutts enslaved everyone without judgement, justice, or impartiality, if you could get into their grimy claws.

"Now. Tell me we have something more than that." He said patiently. As much as he wanted to yell at them and punish them, it would be fruitless. There was only so much he could do to them because as much as they knew he could hurt them, they knew his butt was on the line. The only reason they were making any efforts at all was because they knew that whoever he was replaced with would recognize their 'efforts' to get him replaced, or worse, dead. Or Linkin would make their lives hell when pushed too far.

One of the Hutts raised a hand and said in Huttese, "The Rogue Shadow black market transaction was backtracked to Nal Bar'sai's territory."

"Ding ding ding! We have something." He pointed to the Hutt and smiled, then turned his attention on Nal Bar'sai. "Anything you would like to add?"

Judging from the Hutt's silence and sweat, it was a resounding no, but Linkin let him have his silence. The Hutt would undoubtedly lie, scheme, or offer something to appease Vader, and in turn him.

Nal Bar'sai glanced nervously at his peers before grumbling. He said, "Nothing."

"Nothing." Linkin repeated. "Let me ask you, have you even searched?"

Again lengthy silence. "No."

"No... I see. Well, then here this is going to work." He leaned forward on his desk. "If you slugs cannot find me this one person, I will have to take matters into my own hands and search myself. And I won't be as nice about it as you. Now, would you care to explain why you haven't bothered keeping an eye out for her?"

"..."

"Well?" Clearly the Hutt was holding something back and nervous about something. The question was what? Was it embarassing? Like he spent all of his time in the company of his floozies drinking and smoking?

Nal Bar'sai whispered something to one of his Twi'lek slaves, and she walked around his desk. She leaned her barely covered body over his shoulder and whispered in his ear. With each word she said, Linkin gaped in shock, then smiled, and let his smile grow.

Once the message was received, she returned to her master.

**-Starkiller-**

**-Nar Shadaa-**

Starkiller awoke stiff and hurting all over. He didn't react to it outwardly, this was something he was used to from his training. What he had not expected was how deeply the exhaustion went from recovering from such a massive wound. He silently meditated from where he lay and pulsed gently with the Dark Side. Energy flooded his veins and the pain lessened.

He turned on the makeshift bed to see Juno laying behind him, up against the wall. They kept a small distance between each other last night and from what he could recall with his fuzzy memory, she had spent most of the night shaking and murmuring in despair.

Starkiller rose to his feet and looked down at her. Her eyes and mouth were puffy, her skin looked sick and dry, her body was feeble. He had seen it before, but now that the Force flowed through him and he was fully awake and free of drugs, he could see how deeply she had suffered. She was a healthy, smart-ass, bright woman. Now she looked like any other hobo they now lived among. And through the Force he felt her life energy was dwindling. It wasn't that she was dying, but the brightness of life in her was dimmed.

It made his chest hurt.

PROXY stood by his side, watching his expression. "It was bad, wasn't it..." Starkiller whispered. He didn't want to wake her.

"It was." PROXY replied.

Starkiller closed his eyes and thought on, again, why she would do it. But then he concluded, that, perhaps, the why didn't matter anymore. All that mattered now was that she had. It was a debt he would take a long time to repay, and a loyalty he respected.

He could put off starting his revenge a while.

The alien they shacked up with sat on the other side of the hole in the wall, and was clutching his green credits, and periodically licking one. The alien watched them passively.

Starkiller turned and walked out. "Let's go, PROXY. We have work to do."

"Coming, Master!" PROXY sounded more up-beat than he was yesterday. PROXY was happy to finally be of service again.

Starkiller and PROXY entered the streets of Nar Shadaa. Starkiller flexed his muscles while he walked. His body ached. He knew entropy had set in, but now getting out of it was proving a painful experience he didn't want to repeat.

"PROXY, list all sources of quick, local income that can be done in secret."

"Master, I am not an economic-bot. I am a fighting bot capable of long range communication and holographic imagery. In addition, I am not plugged into the local holonet for the sake of secrecy."

"I understand that, but since you and Juno have been having some work here for a while, you had to have heard of things. Just tell me a filtered list from my query, and prepare yourself to look into the holonet. There are some things we will need to know."

"Computing one moment... We can steal."

"I would rather not make a lot of enemies, and it's too small if we go for the lesser people. Not many have money amongst slaves and indentured servants and lesser gangs. Next."

"We can gamble."

Starkiller thought about that a moment. On one hand, gambling and winning would very quickly put them on the Hutt's radar, but if they take advantage of PROXY's ability to appear like a variety of people, they can pull it off, and over time it could work very well towards getting his plans started, and he could make sure Juno is healthy and comfortable again at the same time.

"Mark it as 'possible'. Next." Starkiller said.

'Damn my stamina... It's dropped down to nothing.' He chastised himself. He stopped at the corner of a street to catch his breathe.

"We can be gladiators."

Gladiators... He had heard gladiators were often slaves pitted against each other, and he would not take kindly to being a slave. There are gladiators who aren't slaves, but Starkiller wasn't sure how that worked. He wasn't up to being put on a long term contract. He could do it, but the income was unknown, it would obviously demand an alias of him, it would put him on the public spotlight to a degree, and he could be facing a lot of requirements to show up or give information to his employer... or something special entailed in a contract, and the last thing Starkiller wanted was to pop up on Vader's radar without it being on his terms.

"I don't know what is involved in that. Mark it as 'need more information'. Next."

"Bounty Hunter."

Now Bounty Hunting was a field that Starkiller was familiar with. He had never involved himself with it personally, but he knew of it. It could be freelance or contracting, and you hunted criminals, stole items of value to an employer, or did the opposite in acting as a bodyguard to a person or item. Or you could go after the 'good' side. You could choose whatever target you wanted. The money was lucrative in direct proportion to the danger and significance of the target, and secrecy in the job was to be expected through aliases, and respected. Starkiller knew that if he had turned his kills thus far in for bounties instead of doing it out of loyalty as gifts to Vader, he would be a very wealthy man. He didn't know how wealthy, but wealthy.

It also allowed a degree of freedom in choosing contracts. Whether it be for morality, considering the job too dangerous, or just not liking to work in groups.

Starkiller found himself smiling darkly. The prospect of being a bounty hunter was appealing. It was so much like what he already was that it was... actually exciting. To be able to choose his own targets. To hunt them down. The Dark Side in him enjoyed the hunt and bringing his prey in, but also the freedom that went along with it fueled his imagination. He had almost taken pity on Shaak Ti enough to bring her in alive rather than dead, and being able to make that choice was something he would like to continue to have.

All the while bringing people to justice...

Starkiller didn't claim to be a saint. He wasn't what he would call 'a good guy', but he had worked under Vader fully believing he was doing the right thing, while pleasing Vader. He brought Vader's enemies to justice.

And there were certainly a lot of scum here.

"That one sounds interesting."

**-Juno Eclipse-**

**-Nar Shadaa-**

Juno woke up to seeing the alien friend of theirs hovering over her looking at her face closely. "Uh... Good Morning?" She said groggily.

"Why you lost the shiny?" A shiver went down her spine at his voice, whether it was the unusual tone or how close his mouth was, she couldn't say.

"I haven't touched your shinnies."

"Shiny lost!" The alien poked her skin.

She explained, "I haven't eaten well... human bodies degrade over time. It's called malnutrition."

He stared blankly at her. He didn't seem to understand. "Can you get shiny again?"

Again, she shivered. "I... yes. If you can let me get go and go out, I can see what I can do... Where is Bendak and PROXY?"

The alien backed away, but the way he intently looked at her put her on edge. It was... different from how he usually looked at her. It was still like a kid with a crush, but... there was something behind his eyes she couldn't place. She didn't know his name either, nor what he did when he was gone for days at a time. He always returned with more 'shiny' credits though and added them to his little stockpile. Once he had some hardened white material on his clothes. Did he work in a factory or spend a lot of time in one?

The alien shrugged. "You friends go off. Talked about work."

'They must be seeing what they can do to get us out of this.' Juno thought. A part of her felt ashamed that she had allowed herself to degrade to the point that she no longer had any stamina or strength to do much, but she had been focused single-mindedly on ensuring Starkiller came out of his surgery well. She had done her part...

'Still, there is at least something I can do.' Juno struggled to stand. She may not be as strong as she used to be, and her brain felt like mush, but she could at least do something. She wasn't sure what, but she would figure it out. She reached for her pistol...

But there was no pistol. She stared blankly at the spot for a moment. 'Starkiller must have taken it...' She concluded. She left to find some way to earn enough to get dinner.

The alien watched her leave. He muttered, "She needs to be all nice and shiny again..."

**-PROXY-**

**-A bar in Nar Shadaa-**

PROXY believed it knew master Starkiller well. Starkiller was a predictable master. Starkiller was a master that lacked ulterior motives, schemes, lies, and large ambition. Starkiller was a servant, much like itself, with a simple ambition toward a single goal. Both of their existences were carved and based around concepts you could say in a sentence.

To kill Starkiller when he is at his strongest.

To serve Vader.

Yet, observing Starkiller left PROXY confused. Starkiller was a master that took on many of Vader's quirks, such as saying little, staring at things as a way of asking or demanding, and not 'cutting around the bush' as organics put it. Yet... the few things Starkiller said... it left PROXY wondering for the first time what Starkiller was thinking.

_PROXY, ensure there are no Imperials in there._

_PROXY, for future notice, we will not be taking any contracts from the Empire, no matter what job we take._

_PROXY, go on the holonet through a proxy and download all information you can find on the creation and management of an army._

PROXY's lower programming dictated it should reconcile this unusual, and dangerous, progression of orders with Its master, and see what Starkiller had in mind, but its higher programming reminded it that it was a good loyal PROXY first.

The scariest thing was not just Starkiller's words, vague as they were, but his mood. Starkiller was, as stated, silent and thoughtful. It was traits picked up by his father figure. However, as of late Starkiller was brooding. The expression on his face, while hidden from the unobservant eyes of organics, spoke loudly to PROXY of pain, anger, and eventual satisfaction. Now, when you combine pain, anger, and eventual satisfaction as emotional status's and recall how Starkiller had been betrayed by their mutual master to the point of death, the conclusion is that Starkiller is dreaming of repaying said master in kind.

PROXY didn't care. Such thoughts were neither good nor ill for it. What bothered PROXY was how hidden Starkiller tried to keep his thoughts. PROXY could hardly put its programming and functions in order with such large empty variables.

It was obvious that Starkiller's programming had changed from 'Serve Vader' into something else, but PROXY was unsure what it had become.

PROXY did not prompt him nor express its curiosity. Starkiller would tell all in his own time. PROXY contented itself to walking just behind him.

All of this PROXY considered in the span of seconds it took to enter the bar. Starkiller hung back and scanned the crowd. PROXY already had. "There are no Imperials, master, but plenty of unsightly undesirables taking little notice of us."

"Cameras?"

"One."

"Let's avoid its notice then. Lead the way to a table."

PROXY examined the camera, judged its line of sight, mapped a route around it, and followed said route. Starkiller followed it to the table selected. They were in the middle of a crowd, and the atmosphere was red and misty. PROXY examined the mist and found it had a chemical base designed to produce endorphins in most organics and limit inhibitions. Starkiller was unaffected.

The mist was putting most of the occupants of the bar into a high. There was little they could say that would be noticed. PROXY informed Starkiller of its findings.

"Regardless... I would rather not blab out too much." Starkiller cautioned.

'Blab out too much' implied that there was something to 'blab'. An interesting choice of words, but PROXY stayed quiet.

"I've been thinking." Starkiller started. "The bounty hunter gig would go well with us, at least for a cover."

"Cover for what?" PROXY inquired.

Starkiller looked at it quietly, but did not respond to the question. A bot wheeled by, asked what they wanted, and Starkiller ordered water. "The water here is probably full of crap as well..." Starkiller muttered as it left. The water was the only thing here free.

"If by 'crap' you mean chemicals designed to produce endorphins and reduce inhibitions, In addition to a high metal content, floating organic matter, and kidney excrement, then yes." Starkiller stared at it. PROXY tried to appease his worry. "But you are unaffected by the chemicals."

"Thanks PROXY... That makes me feel so much better."

"You are welcome, master." PROXY observed that mater did not touch his drink. He was thirsty. So why-

"Can you find the local bounties for me?" Starkiller asked suddenly.

"I can pull them off the holonet if you desire for me to plug myself in."

"Do that."

PROXY checked its firewalls and entered the local holonet. Immediately it encountered thousands of attempts to be hacked, but its Imperial grade firewalls pushed back all intruders as it swam the holonet for information and turned off its holonet transceiver. It took a hundredth of a second in real time, but its programming required that social etiquette allow PROXY to stand idle for a minimum of five seconds while in the presence of organics to give them a sense of 'thinking'.

Organics had such inefficient requirements.

"Done." PROXY declared. "Bounties within a twenty-five mile radius vary from ten credits to five-hundred thousand credits."

"Filter out the ones that are from the Empire."

PROXY removed approximately five bounties. One of a local thief, two murderers, one trouble-maker, and one Jedi Padawan named Falon Grey. The Jedi one was released recently, but the client was the local Imperial Governor.

"Five removed. Bounties within a twenty-five mile radius now vary from fifty credits to ten thousand."

"Now filter out the ones that require us to meet with the client first, will take a long time, and cannot be done anonymously."

There was one bounty fitting in that. A target called the 'Doll Maker' was considered a serial killer. The Doll Maker had killed a bunch of Hutt slaves and locals over the years, all of which were female and generally with fair skin. The only difficulty was in finding the Doll Maker. The individual was unknown and taking the time to find the target would not satisfy the master.

"One removed. Bounties within a twenty-five mile radius now vary from fifty credits to seven thousand."

"Describe the seven thousand bounty." Starkiller ordered. His eyes kept drifting to the drink, but his... inhibitions kept him back despite how he licked his dry lips twice and his skin was dangerously dry.

PROXY changed form into a fat alien. "The bounty is a local man named Donny Lerux. Lerux is inciting rebellion among the locals to fight against the Hutts, but reality is much harsher. He was a slave for the Triad that helped 'cook the books'. When Lerux encountered certain documents describing the Triad's wealth, he tried to direct some of it into his own account. The attempt failed, and he is now on the run trying to incite the locals into covering his hide. He does so through a cult centered around himself, and those he gathers are mentally ill."

PROXY continued, "This group is centered around a warehouse three floors down and two blocks east from our current location. Weaponry is unknown, but an educated guess limits it to one low-grade pistol per three people, and one grenade among them all, with a potential defense force of up to fifteen people based on Lerux's charisma. The turn in point does require face-to-face contact for the delivery, but that is something I can do personally as no identification is required. The target is wanted dead or alive."

Starkiller nodded. As always, PROXY prided itself on a thorough, and well put summary of the targets. Starkiller grimaced, chucked the water back, and shuddered in disgust. He rose.

PROXY said, "Master. Is it wise to push yourself?"

"You think I can't take a bunch of idiots and a coward?"

"Walking there will put you in more strain then them. It is my prediction that you will collapse from exhaustion on the walk back if you have to carry him with you."

Starkiller chuckled. "If you are so worried, grab a cab then to pick me up. This won't take long. Just give me five minutes. I won't even have to hurt anyone." Starkiller patted PROXY's shoulder plate and walked out.

**-Juno Eclipse-**

**-Nar Shadaa-**

Juno ignored the smell and flies as she rummaged through the trash can. So far it had been a bunch of a combination of junk, and hardware she could repair that people had tossed. She wiped the grime from her face and examined a motherboard. It looked salvageable. If she could find the proper tools then she could make it work.

Footsteps behind her made her jump, but she couldn't move. The person was right behind her. Alien fingers wrapped around her arms with gentleness, yet strength that kept her from moving.

"Let's make you nice and shiny again..."

**-Darth Vader-**

**-Executor-**

"I trust you have found the target, Grand Moff." Vader stood on the competed bridge of the Executor. Next to him, Grand Moff Wilfhug Tarkin tapped his foot patiently.

As Moffs went, Linkin was high up on Vader's list. He was like an old war veteran, but he was also not the most competent. The only Moff Vader considered to be fully competent was Tarkin. He might even go so far as to say Tarkin was a friend. Tarkin was the only one besides Palpatine who knew Vader's identity, and they had agreed on a lot of views of law and order both before and after the rise of the Empire. If anything, Tarkin had helped influence Vader's views, and the Empire as a whole. Tarkin's position as Grand Moff was official.

Unofficially he was in equal standing to Vader himself in the Emperor's eyes.

"We found the ship. It was sold six months ago and I have back tracked it to a specific sector. I regret to report that the Rogue Shadow's pilot is still laying low."

"So. You haven't found the target." Vader deduced.

"Uh... No, my Lord." Linkin started to sweat.

Vader started to growl and extend a hand to choke the incompotent Moff from a system away, but just before he could, Tarkin laid a hand on his arm. Tarkin said to the screen, "If you will excuse us for a moment."

"Certainly."

Tarkin gently nudged Vader away, and Vader obliged. He removed his arm. "Lord Vader, I understand the need to deal with failure and deal out due punishment, but at the same time there is progress being made."

"It has been months since the Rogue Shadow arrived here. Months for my target to disappear."

"And it is Nar Shadaa." Tarkin reminded him. "If I may use an aging analogy, it is like looking for a straw in a stack of needles. Poke around too much and the local scum will poke back, making it all the harder. I would say accept that the traitor of yours is lost, but the fact that any trace has been found is more than I would expect."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Depends on how vested you are on this traitor of yours. Our regiment in the Nar system is limited... purely cosmetic. If you are invested, then give the regiment proper supplies to do what it needs to do. Otherwise I wouldn't expect anything to be reaped from it."

Vader looked down in thought. The size of their forces in the system was quite small. Perhaps it was time they had more men. Not too much more. He didn't need Palpatine thinking he was investing too much into a side mission. He was supposed to be focused on other things.

Vader returned to the view screen and said, "Grand Moff, I will be sending you some additional reinforcements to aid in your search. I am giving you another chance."

Linkin blink in surprise. Vader was not known for giving second chances. "Of course, Lord Vader. And may I request something in particular?"

"What?" Vader said in decreasing patience.

"A Spector. In my search for the Rogue Shadow, we have come across rumors of a Jedi. I am prepared to focus the bulk of my forces on this threat, but I am unsure which dilemma you would prefer me to focus on."

A Jedi. "Do you have a name?"

"Falon Grey. Padawan to former Jedi General Rahm Kota."

Vader considered it a moment. The General was dead, but if he passed on his small army to his apprentice, then this Padawan was a respectable threat. Not enough for Vader to get personally involved in, but worth investing into.

"A Sith Spector is on its way. Expect a full Star Destroyer to be in your command." Vader pointed to the screen. "Do not fail me, Grand Moff. I expect both the Jedi and my traitor."


	5. S01 Ep05

**Note: I've changed around the pricing of credits in the previous chapter, and this one, because I am assuming that 1 credit = $3. I am not trying to be accurate in price ranges to the dollar, but I also don't want to say that the price of a star ship or Star destroyer can miraculously be about the same.**

**Another thing to note is that I am thinking of making my 'episode' plan different in****motr****(****Marek****of the Rebellion) from my other fictions. Most of them, I try to be around 5k words per chapter and have about a minimum of 3 parts per episode. Sometimes I use more parts if it is worthy, but generally I am keeping to that. For****motr****, I think I will let the words vary based on the episode, and keep each chapter 100% self-contained. So sometimes you will see 1000 words, sometimes 5000, sometimes 10,000. Depends. This chapter is going to be a long one.**

**Also, I just finished watching the first few episodes of Star Wars Rebels.**

**I don't know how to feel about it. On one hand, sure, have a Knight find some kid and teach him the Force. The Order is gone so every Knight and Master has to figure things out for themselves. The Mandalorian girl is cute, and overall she is nice but could be a bit more aggressive to truly feel Mandalorian to me.****It's****like all over her aggression is dumped on the alien and she is as calm and selfless and peace-loving as a Jedi. The characters are nice and I can't discredit how well made they feel.**

**But on the other hand, the overall plot device feels weak. It feels... too... smooth. Too simple. There are developments based on individual character, sure, but nothing as groundbreaking as the revelations in Force Unleashed. The plotting, the design. I prefer the feeling that the Rebel alliance was made by design rather than accident of a bunch of people just thrown together.**

**I am not at the point that the alliance is made yet in the series, so it could be either that there is some actually interesting plots that make the alliance or, better yet, they are already a small cell group of the rebel alliance that operates independently. Leaving us in the dark as to the alliance's origins.**

**Overall, I'm going to judge it at its own merits, even if the overall plot device feels much weaker in intensity. One thing I do think Rebels is good at is... feeling... like a family. There is something to be said for a show that is relaxed, laid-back, and the characters just interact well instead of focusing the show on a big plot and being explosive and action-packed.**

**One thought I do have however is keeping 'Rebels' and having them be characters that come along later as a team that operates under the already-formed Rebel Alliance after Starkiller forms it. I think that having the family-feel of Rebels as a team and relationships, growth of the street rat, while also having the schemes and action of Starkiller will prove a nice balance. I don't know. Maybe I'll have him work closely with the team. Or they will just one of many teams that is under him, and I simply give them the most face-time of all the teams.**

**Or mention them once or twice as being nobodies.**

**Or maybe just scrap them.**

**Let me know what you think of all this. I'm still deciding and I'll listen to what people think. The important thing is the Force Unleashed aspect of forming the alliance.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything, so no sue!**

**Remember to Review. I want to know what you think and how the chapter is to you. Is it good? Is it bad? Anything I need to know? Any ideas or things you want to see in the future?**

* * *

"The world is a looking glass and gives back to every man the reflection of his own face." - William Makepeace Thackeray

* * *

**-Starkiller-**

**-Warehouse District-**

Just as PROXY said, the most difficult part was traversing to the warehouse. Starkiller had to stop twice to relax his shaking legs. They burned, but it was a good burn. It meant he was moving. He was building his strength back piece by piece.

Starkiller followed PROXY's directions to the warehouse. Now the problem was in knowing whether or not Donny Lerux was here.

So he knocked and asked.

A pistol shoved its way through the hole and aimed at his head.

Well... that answered that question.

Starkiller Force pushed the door back. The shockwave ruffled up dust into the air until there was a thick smog. Starkiller stepped in and laid waste to everything.

The fight was a joke. One or two pistols and a lot of people trying to punch him. He pulled the pistols away and pushed everyone into the ground. It was a single room warehouse meant for storage. Starkiller waved his way around large containers to check for Lerux, but there was no one. He sensed no one inside the containers and everyone on this floor was unconscious.

He found stairs leading up to an upper level with a single door leading into some room that looked like a control room, or managerial office. Starkiller walked up the stairs, Force pulled the door off its hinges, and stepped inside to face...

Himself. Starkiller looked into his own face.

He hesitated, not expecting this. "What the..." The other Starkiller opened his mouth the same way he did, but not words came out. It looked wrong.

The other Starkiller backed away fearfully and as he did so, his face shifted unnaturally. That's when Starkiller realized he was only looking into his reflection. The man was wearing a faceless chrome mask.

A chill went down Starkiller's spine. Starkiller looked into the mask and saw how his own eyes were red with the Dark Side, and how he looked angry. Starkiller didn't feel all that angry. If anything, he felt numb, but his own reflection showed otherwise.

Images flashed through his mind. He saw himself in the dream he had when he 'died'. His dream had him wearing a faceless mask as well.

Was this a sign?

Was it really just a dream?

The imposter Starkiller hit his back to the wall and turned around, frantically trying to open the window. And just as the reflection ended when his back was turned, so did the illusions.

Angry with himself for hesitating like a weakling, Starkiller roughly reached out with the Force and grabbed the man by the throat. The man struggled against the invisible hand and begged for mercy. Starkiller pulled him through the air to himself and looked his own reflection in the face. The man wasn't choking but he was restrained. Starkiller reached up and pulled the mask off his face. The man behind the mask was nothing special. He was thin, gangly, and terrified.

Starkiller ignored him. He looked into the mask. It reflected everything on its face, and the back side was see-through. It was a one-way mirror. It also dimmed light like sunglasses. "So... this is part of your little message. That we must reflect on ourselves or something?" Starkiller mused out loud.

"Wh-who are you? Did the Hutts send you?" The man asked fearfully. He continued to struggle against the invisible hand around his throat.

"I'm nobody." Starkiller said factually.

It was meant as an empty statement, but for a moment, a brief moment, it struck him how true that was. He didn't know his birth name. He was just some war orphan that wasn't supposed to exist.

He was raised in secret and given a code name as part of his position. The name 'Starkiller' wasn't a name. It was the only thing he knew to associate himself by, but it still wasn't a name. He could be called Lightsbane just as much or be given a numerical code like 22801 for a name. Now he was betrayed by his master, and no longer was willing to associate himself with that position, so the name 'Starkiller' was merely a... tradition.

The name 'Bendak' was just a cover his friends used to help cover his identity. 'Bendak' could come and go like the wind. There was no paperwork to show that 'Bendak' existed nor to show that 'Starkiller' existed.

He really was no one.

Just like the mask with no face.

While Starkiller mused these things and gazed into the empty mask, the man said, "L-l-listen! Whatever they're paying you... I'll pay you twice that! J-just let me-"

Starkiller clenched his throat briefly to shut him up. He glanced up at him out of the corner of his eyes, and the man paled at the deep anger within the red orbs. "Not interested. You can't afford your own bounty anyway." Starkiller glanced back at the mask and smiled darkly, "I'll be taking this though. It's a nice mask."

Starkiller zapped him with electricity. The man fell to the ground unconscious. "Don't worry, you'll live." He said to the body. He stuffed the mask in his pocket and radio'd PROXY. "I have the target. Come pick me up, I think I might pop a rib if I carry him back."

Starkiller made sure not to use any identifying words and made himself sound deeper than he really was in case anyone out there was listening in on this.

"Understood."

PROXY pulled up a car next to the warehouse. Starkiller dropped the target onto the backseat with the Force before jumping into the side seat. PROXY immediately flew into the air.

"So. How did it go?" PROXY inquired.

"Your assessment was good. There were only twelve of them with 2 pistols between them all. It wasn't anything I couldn't handle."

"Thank you, master. I pride myself on accuracy."

PROXY handled the transaction at the drop-off point. It used the image of a random Jedi it had on file and removed all objects symbolic of Jedi from the image. They walked away with one thousand credits.

After procuring some cash, and PROXY spending a few on groceries, they returned to the hole-in-the-wall they called home for the time being. "Juno, we got some food. Before you ask, it was legal. Did a quick bounty on a coward hiding behind a bunch of nobodies. Now we have enough to rent a real apartment for a while. This bounty hunting stint pays pretty well, and doesn't feel all the different from what I'm used to."

Nothing.

"Hello?" Starkiller said. But there was no voice or statement from behind the curtain. Starkiller swiped it open. "Figures. I'm standing here talking to myself... PROXY! Juno isn't here."

"She must be away finding something to scavenge. However, it is odd that she is still gone. Her stamina allows her to be up for a few hours before she must rest." PROXY said.

'Yeah, mine isn't much better right now.' Starkiller thought. "Perhaps she regained some of her strength."

"I find that highly unlikely. Neither of you have consumed the proper amount of protein, or any food for that matter, to build up your strength back."

Starkiller had a bad feeling about this. PROXY was right. They could get their health back now that they could get some real food again, but not yet. "PROXY, check the area. See if you can find her and keep your ears peeled. Make sure your com is on. Private channel only."

"Yes, sir." PROXY's image shifted into a random person and he walked away.

Starkiller looked over the area closer. He wasn't a detective. He didn't the first thing about detecting, but she might have left a note or something. She also might return while PROXY was gone and one of them needed to find her at least.

Starkiller rolled up the makeshift blanket they had been using and left most of their goods in a pile to the side. It was a short pile. Little more than a small vase with a flower in it, clearly Juno's touch at something homey, a blanket full of holes and dirt, a pile of rags, and the curtain with a rod. There was also a single credit chip.

'Odd. If she had a chip, she might have bought a bite to eat at the store. You can at least get a snack with this.' Starkiller picked it up and grimaced. It was slightly sticky. It was one of the chips the stupid alien always licked. He didn't want to think what was contained in the person's saliva.

Starkiller returned the chip to the alien's little prize wall of single-credit-chips and stepped on something hard. Whatever it was, it was very solid, small, and tubular with a blocky-side. Curious, Starkiller picked his blanket up, reached in, and pulled out... a blaster.

It was Juno's blaster. He had seen her clean it. What was her blaster doing there? "PROXY. Did Juno ever loan her blaster to her friend?"

"No. Why?"

"I found it under his blanket."

"Oh dear..." PROXY said in a very organic-like tone.

"PROXY... explain why you sound scared..."

"Mrs. Eclipse was very protective of her side-arm. She took it with her always, performed maintenance daily, and never allowed anyone to touch it. I also have not found her along the usual route she takes. If she is missing, our mutual friend is not home, and the blaster was in a place it would unlikely ever be, namely in his possession, my analysis is not a pleasant one."

"Great..." Starkiller sighed. Juno's been kidnapped, or hurt, or worse. He knew that alien was trouble, he gave the former Sith bad vibes. "Don't report this to any authorities, PROXY. I don't need anyone knowing I'm here. We will have to handle this ourselves."

"Understood. I am returning." PROXY confirmed before cutting off transmission.

**-Juno Eclipse-**

**-Somewhere on Nar****Shadaa****-**

Juno awoke with a start to find herself in a cage. The cage was small, barely four by four by four. She had to sit crouched in the corner. It was a cage fit for a dog... "Where am I?" She wondered out loud. She struggled to her hands and knees and winced from pain in her head. She touched her head and pulled back to find blood on her hands. Her head was bleeding.

Around her she saw a number of cages in a row. Every cage had a person in it. The lights were dim and she couldn't make out who was in the cages. This didn't look good for her. "Damnit... Hey, anyone awake?" She whispered.

The one next to her didn't stir, but gave a faint hum in response. Judging from how high pitched the hum was, it was a young woman.

Juno crawled to the edge of her cage next to the girl. "Where are we?"

"Don't know." The person said with a broken spirit.

"Who are you? Us?"

"Doesn't matter..."

"Why? Are we being sold into slavery?" Juno couldn't help the terror in her gut at the prospect of serving a Hutt as a dancer, singer, hard labor worker, or their pet's lunch. None of them were prospects she looked forward to.

The girl didn't answer. A loud humming tune could be heard from the next room and Juno saw a door at the end of the room slightly cracked. She couldn't make out what was on the other side, but it looked like a big room at the very least. "Don't we all wish it was just that...?" The girl finally said.

The person humming the tune came closer and opened the door. Light shone into the room and Juno realized a number of things quickly, each one terrifying in itself.

First, every person in a cage was a young woman.

Second, the large room on the other side of the door had huge dolls in dresses that were frighteningly life like.

Third, the person to open the door was the alien she thought she had befriended. She didn't know his name, but now she wished she had never met him.

"He's called the Doll Maker..." Juno's new-found friend whispered.

"I can see why." Juno whispered.

So this is how the bastard spent his days.

The Doll Maker stopped before the first cage, whispered something barely intelligible at this distance, opened the cage, and forced his first victim out. The woman resisted, but the alien proved to be much stronger than Juno expected. He forced her into the next room and closed the door.

Juno shut her eyes and forced herself to breathe against the panic attacks and terror filling the room. The screams didn't help, followed by gagging sounds, and finally gurgling... and silence.

The silence went on for several minutes before anyone spoke. Juno's next door neighbor said, "He does one every day. That's the worst part... the waiting. Won't be long until we're next."

Juno shuddered. She focused all of her terror, anger, betrayal, and self into finding a way out. She had nothing on her and the cage had only an old fashioned lock with a key that she didn't have. "There has to be a way out of here!"

"Don't bother."

Juno didn't listen and scrounged around. It was difficult in the dark. It also didn't help that her mind had deteriorated. She had always believed that malnutrition was a myth or that she could fight it, but she felt dumb and weak to her core. She had trouble thinking about the most mundane thing. She actually thought for a moment that string would work and only chastised herself for trying a moment later. If her mind was at its peak and sharp she had no doubt she could figure out a way instantly, but as it was, she felt useless and sluggish.

There was nothing in her pockets and buttons on her clothes wouldn't amount to anything. String didn't have any strength or firmness to consider. It would be like hitting a metal lock with a wet noodle.

A ray of light hit her eyes bouncing from her Imperial signet and in a spark of genius, she remembered the insignia on her jacket had a metal pin. With shaky hands she removed it in the dark and started to work.

**-Starkiller-**

**-****Residential ****District-**

Starkiller sat pensively on the balcony extending from the apartment he rented. The night was little different for Nar Shadaa than the day. The view allowed him to see the sky a dozen floors above and the layers of hover car highways beneath. He saw platforms with people walking to and fro, and people parking their cars and going off to a nice restaurant or shop or... something. The districts varied heavily. One side of the street could be rotted, filthy, and covered in mildew and people laying around and the other side could be pristine, clean, and taken care of.

At least in terms of people who lived here. Trade was the thing, from what Starkiller observed. Traders were everywhere exchanging goods, and observing a trading house or trading guild showed that this was where the money was and acted as the line between the poor and rich.

The apartment Starkiller rented was reasonable. It was nothing compared to the Rogue Shadow, but compared to the hole-in-the-wall PROXY and Juno had lived in for months, it was a palace in all its filthy glory.

First thing he did was throw the mattress out the window. They would be getting another one. A couple.

Starkiller observed in silent thought all of these things, only if to keep his thoughts busy. If he let himself do nothing he would get bored and antsy.

PROXY was waiting at their previous abode for the return of their little friend. Starkiller didn't know for a fact that the alien was involved in Juno's disappearance, but it was logical, and Starkiller liked to be a logical person.

Something people underestimated about him, just as much as his skill in combat, was his intelligence. Starkiller had been raised to be an intelligent servant of Vader, not some dumb boot-licking rag that didn't know the difference between his left and right hand. Vader taught him how to think. How to adapt. How to use strategy and plotting and design.

Starkiller wasn't a genius, but he wasn't dumb either.

Finding himself bored of watching people, Starkiller turned his attention to the mask in his pocket. He pulled it out and gazed into it.

He remembered the dream. The dream he had while he had been dead. No... The vision. In the vision he saw himself return to Vader's apprenticeship only to be betrayed a second time after forming an army of some kind. In the vision he knew he couldn't allow such a thing to happen.

And just before the vision ended, he had been wearing this mask.

Starkiller put the chrome mask on his face. It was much too large. He would need to have one refitted.

But regardless of if he wore a mask, and regardless of what a vision entailed... what was he going to do?

Starkiller wanted to form an army. He wanted to tear down the Empire and spit on Vader's grave. He wanted to laugh at the Emperor while he killed him, just as the Emperor had laughed at him.

But the question was... how to do that?

Starkiller sighed and asked the mask, "If I notify Vader... I know I can work myself back into his graces. He will assign me to find rebels and pirates and discontents and Jedi to rally, and then he will turn on me. I will become little more than bait for his enemies. I'll be honey... I know I can let events go as they did in my dream, and turn the tables before Vader does... but then what? Then Vader knows my secrets? He knows my allies? He will know my weaknesses? Just as surely as I will have the time I need to get my army properly, I will have that lightsaber stabbing slower and slower into my back until..." Starkiller closed his eyes and gazed up. "There is no hope if I let Vader know I exist... if I let him help shape my army. My army will be by his design to succeed where he wants and fail as he wants."

"But then what of the alternative?" Starkiller asked himself. "I stay in secret. Form my army with my own hands... I know now I can. There is an army out there to be made and allies to be found. But without the Imperial intelligence finding them will be much harder. And... I won't have the time I need to get it set up properly. The instant Vader gets the slightest sniff of me the entire might of the Empire will be on me. I won't have Vader to cover for me. I'll be stomped down like a bug the instant I pop my head out of the ground."

Starkiller watched as some roaches crawled around on the wall outside. With a mere gesture of his hand the roach flew off the wall into the sky to be crushed at some other people's convenience. Except, more roaches crawled out of the wall. With more gestures, more were thrown away. Again, more roaches could be seen on other walls.

Smiling to himself in his morbid game, Starkiller amused himself with finding roaches from where he sat and throwing them off.

Perhaps this was the answer. Roaches are unnaturally resilient. Crush one and find a hundred more and where else to find roaches than in the filth of Nar Shadaa?

"I'll stay hidden." Starkiller decided with a dark smirk accompanied by red eyes. If anyone were to look at him, they would be afraid. They would be seeing a demon being born. Starkiller looked into the mask. "I'll stay hidden. I'm nobody after all. No real name, no identity. I don't need one. I can be anyone, anywhere. I'll be the creep under Vader's bed..." He laughed evilly. "Where better to find discontents and rebels and pirates than Nar Shadaa!"

He would need allies and sponsors. He would need an image of some kind to obtain them easily. He would need someone with the knowledge and understanding of how an army worked to form it properly to be as resilient as roaches.

There were a lot of things he needed. But one thing at a time. First he would need to find potential allies while creating an image for them to follow.

Starkiller dropped down from the balcony and landed on the ground several floors below. A few people were startled, but Starkiller walked off without giving them second thought. "PROXY." He said into his arm's com. "I'm going for a bit of shopping. Continue with the op and keep me apprised."

His com clicked twice as PROXY gave silent confirmation.

Starkiller found what he was looking for and handed the craftsman the chrome mask. "I want something similar to this. A custom job for my head with a few minor utilities added."

"Custom will be a bit extra." The craftsman looked it over front and back.

"That's fine. So long as this is unrecorded. No one is to know of this purchase." Starkiller said from beneath his hood.

The craftsman looked at him seriously for a moment before being relaxed and casual again. "I'm sorry, but sometimes the cash register gets a bit glitchy sometimes. I've always wanted to have it repaired, but unfortunately..." He shrugged.

"I think you may find an anonymous donation will appear soon." Starkiller said in understanding.

"Ah, well. Even glitchy as it is, doesn't mean we can't turn away customers. Come on in. Let's see what we can do."

Starkiller nodded and walked in. After discussion it would be a while before the mask would be finished, but it would be to his liking.

**-Later-**

Starkiller stopped when he heard four clicks come from his com. The channel was a private one he shared with PROXY.

'So... the bastard returned home.'

Starkiller tapped his com to send back two clicks.

Starkiller made his way to the original district where they had been living with the potential kidnapper and meditated in a quiet place to the side. He was two blocks away in an alley, so he was far enough to not be found but close enough to respond if PROXY gave further signals.

In the morning Starkiller heard four clicks from his comm. 'He's on the move.' Starkiller responded with two clicks again and entered the street.

The plan was for PROXY to follow the alien and to give directions to Starkiller along the way. Starkiller saw the alien in the far distance of the crowded street and hung back to let him get further ahead, and for a moment he thought he saw PROXY up ahead as well shift out of one image into another to keep up the camouflage. It was a subtle trick, but effect at preventing the alien from thinking he was being followed if the person nearby was never the same.

"Take a right at the cafe marked with a dented garage door." Starkiller's com said quietly in a female voice.

Starkiller followed the directions PROXY provided as they wound their way through the district. The path was convoluted, and they had to stop twice because the alien decided to stop and look around. They followed and tracked him through the entire day. At some points the alien was begging, at other points socializing in its unusual way, cowering from oppressers of any kind, and at one point complimented a woman on how shiny her skin was.

Starkiller didn't know for a fact that the alien had kidnapped Juno. But the alien was also the most likely candidate, and something about the way he talked to the woman about her shiny-status sent chills up his spine. Starkiller wasn't a good guy. He was what people would call a bad guy. He could, and would, murder if it came down to it if it supported his cause. But something about what the alien said, his tone, and Starkiller's imagination combined with PROXY's prediction of how the alien was involved with Juno's disappearance made it downright creepy.

Starkiller wanted to gut the creep right there, but that wouldn't help Juno.

The alien ordered a taxi and left. PROXY left its hologram and watched the alien leave. Starkiller walked up to him and asked, "Did you see where he is going?"

"Yes, master. But I believe you will have to pay. I do not have credits."

"So long as you handle the transaction. Here." Starkiller handed it some credits. PROXY turned into a woman and waved a taxi down.

**-Juno Eclipse-**

**-Doll Maker's Den-**

Juno didn't know how long she had been stooped over by the edge of the cage twiddling away at the lock. The sun had come and gone through the distant window and at some point the alien had returned to claim yet another victim before leaving for the night.

Small rays of sunlight appeared again and still Juno rested against the cold metal bars, stubbornly keeping her exhausted arm up. She no longer had the strength to continue working the clip into the lock, and had failed to notice it broke. Simply keeping her arm up and hand moving gave her barely conscious mind the impression she was working against him.

The sound of footsteps came from the door. Caught off guard, Juno jumped away from the cage door. There was more clatter and distant voices. Then the door knob started to turn, but stopped abruptly since it was locked. It jiggled harshly.

Juno's heart went into her lungs in terror. Who was there? Did the alien bring friends? Did another gang come across the alien's deranged operation?

The woman next to Juno, who would be next to die if the alien's pattern held, glanced at her with wide fearful eyes and Juno silently prayed to whatever deity was out there that this was just a dream.

Just as she finished that prayer, the person on the other side stopped trying to enter. The door knob held firm and they heard no more sounds.

A beam of light burst from the door's lock and started cutting around the knob. The door lock clattered across the floor and the intruder kicked the door open.

Through the dust cloud and rising sun, Juno saw a man standing in the doorway with a lightsaber in his hand.

**-Starkiller-**

**-Nar Shadaa-**

Starkiller and PROXY watched as the alien opened a door and entered in. The windows were shut up with wooden boards and the door was difficult to open or close without power.

Starkiller slunk to the side of the door and peered in. What he found made him pause and stare.

In the center of the room was a reclining table with straps all over it. Next to the table was a giant vat or tube of some kind. Starkiller didn't know what the container was called exactly, but it was a glass-type filled with some kind of white bubbly liquid. The container had a tube coming out of the top that was pinched off near the middle.

Around the room were mannequins. A lot of them. Only... they weren't mannequins or dolls. They were dead people.

The alien touched one doll's face tenderly, and talked about how nice of a dress the doll had, and every word made Starkiller want to gag. After a short conversation on the alien's part, he moved across the room and entered another one.

PROXY entered in and glanced around. "Master." It whispered. "Judging from the psychological profile of the target I have written on the fly, I believe his identity matches with that of the Doll Maker. A criminal with a substantial bounty who has been kidnapping for years and killing his victims."

"Or worse." Starkiller whispered. Morbid fascination made him reach out and touch one of the dolls face. It was... silky smooth to the touch yet life-like in texture down to the miniscule hair on her skin, yet cold and dead and lifeless. He could not feel her in the Force.

There was a white plastic filling her mouth and nose. PROXY made an observation that the plastic inside of her body was a thick preservative contained in the vat behind them that had hardened. Starkiller didn't really listen, but rather observed around him.

He felt cold and empty as the environment around him. He was so filled with revulsion he had yet to make a response beyond the thought that they needed to get Juno out of this place.

The only door was the one the Doll Maker had entered, and the Doll Maker was starting to scream and make all kinds of noises. Starkiller entered in to find the alien throwing boxes and tearing cages apart trying to find something that wasn't there. There were six cages lined up in the room with little bowls next to them and a heavy stench of what PROXY lovingly called 'excrement'.

The only conclusion Starkiller could make was that these cages were the one that held Juno. But there was no Juno.

Feeling his anger return, Starkiller ignited his lightsaber. The alien jumped in surprise. Starkiller snarled, "Where is she?"

"Who? Who who who... Oh, your shiny friend!? Yes, the shiny human female."

"Yes. Her. Where is she?"

The alien didn't seem the slightest bit concerned nor afraid of him, but only rambled on. "Find the woman! I do not know where woman has gone! She has gone! We must find woman! Come! Let us find woman! Hurry!"

The alien tried to walk around Starkiller, but he was having none of that. The alien was insane. He was a psychotic serial killer. And he had Juno!

Starkiller grabbed the alien through the Force and suddenly the Doll Maker knew fear. He clutched at his throat and shrieked loudly, not caring that he would be caught by anyone passing by in his lair. Starkiller threw him into the reclining table. The straps snapped around his neck, arms, and legs like living snakes, and the alien continued to shriek. The Doll Maker screamed illegible words and garbled sentences that barely connected.

Slowly, manically, vengefully, Starkiller walked to his side and looked him in the face. The alien calmed down instantly, having the emotional capacity of an infant it seemed. "Why you do this to poor me? Let me go and we go find woman and make her shiny! Don't you want her to be shiny and nice? You are good guy. Good friend of woman." The alien smiled.

Starkiller didn't let his emotions show. The level of revulsion he felt in the Doll Maker's presence was a level beyond his comprehension. It was simply madness.

But he did find himself chuckling. "Good guy? No. I'm what you would call a bad guy. I have a goal, a purpose, and with the number of bodies that will pile up under my feet, I doubt many will look at me when I die and think of me in any positive light."

"Then you don't want her to be shiny?" It was as if that was the only thing the alien knew how to comprehend.

Starkiller reached up and grabbed the tube. On its end was a face strap. Starkiller didn't feel nice enough to use it though, and cut off the end with a swipe of his lightsaber. He placed his lightsaber back on his belt and found on a nearby table the alien's collection of 'tools'. Including a knife.

With an empty expression, Starkiller stabbed the alien in the stomach with the knife, grabbed the tube while the alien screamed in pain, and jammed it into the wound. He unfastened the pinch from the tube and watched as the liquid flowed into the alien's stomach. He watched as the alien's cries and screams went unanswered, he watched as the alien started to gag and vomit the white plastic preservative, and he watched as more and more pumped into the alien's stomach until it was coming out of the alien's mouth, nose, and eyes. The alien fell silent.

Once all was still, Starkiller let go of the tube and wiped his hands on an oily rag. The oil felt like soap compared to this creatures blood and the liquid plastic.

PROXY, all this time, stood in silent neutral observation.

Starkiller turned his back on the murder scene and said to PROXY, "Memorize every detail of this place for clues as to what might have happened to Juno. Then burn it. I'm heading back to the apartment."

"Yes, master."

Starkiller didn't allow himself to throw up until he was home again and near the bathroom. He wasn't the least bit bothered by his murder, but to have even a glimpse of the mental state of a madman was... something his stomach couldn't handle yet.

He had been raised by Vader, who, despite popular claims, was a very sane man. Vader was a betrayer, an easily angered Sith, and generally not going to be on the galaxy's top-ten-dads-of-the-century. He was evil. But he was also fully aware of his evil and was brilliant. Vader was a thinker and had a tacticians and engineers brain inside the helmet, and had raised Starkiller to be a powerful Sith that relied on both thought and emotion. Power without skill is meaningless, and a scenario without proper tactics to infiltrate left you to be slaughtered.

But that alien... Was a special type of evil. It was like looking into the black heart of Nar Shadaa itself. This was the kind of thing Nar Shadaa created. And this was the kind of place the Empire was buddies with... and would one day become.

"Burn it..." Starkiller said to himself, just as much as he said to PROXY. "Burn all of it!" Starkiller looked up and saw the metallic mask of his on the bed. "I'm going to burn it all down."

His rebellion starts here.


	6. S01 Ep06

**Note: Here, we get in touch with some Jedi and Kota's Rebellion. I won't give away too much before you read it, but there will be a couple people here that will play a part later on.**

**Thanks to everyone who gave me their thoughts on the questions asked.**

**In regards to Rebels. I do think I will include them, but they won't be primary characters. They will have screen time when the story calls for it, and how much that means, I don't know. But it won't be for a long while. A long while. Most of them anyway.**

**I already wanted gladiator Wookie, but I wasn't sure what would fit better. I'm glad almost every agrees with me! So unfortunately that means it won't be much of a spoiler if there is a Wookie at some point.**

**I want to be able to post my stories in multiple sections to spread as much joy and love as I can, but I honestly don't know if its legal here. Let me know if it is or isnt.**

**I got a lot of varied feedback on how long to be in Nar Shadaa. Some saying not too short, not too long, not long, not short. I'm getting the sense of making it reasonable but not to spend too much time on it. Gotcha. Unfortunately it will still be a while because of the stories pace, but I agree. It won't be as long as it would be otherwise. I'll flesh out the plot I do have, but won't add more. There are... five things (Maybe six, depending on how one of them ends.) I want to do in Nar Shadaa beyond this chapter resulting in a nice ending for the arc. Then we'll move on.**

**Nice to know people agree with my opinion that Starkiller just isn't interested in the opposite sex. I do have thoughts of including relationships, but not as a primary plot and not making him sappy. I actually do have one idea that would work nicely with the plot though, and it's not in the least bit romantic and it would settle all disputes of discussion on the subject up until you see how much of an ass he is about it all. Then you just get mad! (I'm not saying anything more. I'll leave my own thoughts to myself to laugh at maniacally while wondering if it's actually a good idea to do it despite how evil and juicy it would be.)**

**Also I deleted chapter 6 entirely to put this chapter in its place. Not sure if that removed the reviews... If it did, I'm sorry! :(**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything, so no sue!**

**Remember to Review. I want to know what you think and how the chapter is to you. Is it good? Is it bad? Anything I need to know? Any ideas or things you want to see in the future?**

* * *

"To assess the quality of thoughts of people, don't listen to their words, but watch their actions." -Amit Kalantri

* * *

-**Starkiller-**

**-Residential District-**

Starkiller sat in his chamber in meditation. He let the Dark Side flow through him, as he entrapped it within himself and let it fester within him. It had been a long time since he felt this good.

He let his mind wander in thought.

Juno had been freed just before he arrived. The door to the cage room was freshly cut with something hot. PROXY believed it was a hot plasma cutting tool. It speculated that Juno found it and cut her way out.

Knowing Juno, she could make anything out of anything. She was not a warrior, soldier, or fighter of renown, but she had skills that Starkiller respected. She seemed to have a comfortable time with hardware and ships. Starkiller couldn't be bothered with such things, but couldn't deny the use of it.

She very well could have scrounged something to cut her way out even if she had to use duct tape and nail clippers.

But Starkiller still felt it was something different. Call it gut instinct, call it echoes of the Force, but he knew there was Jedi.

This is where he had fought Kota. Kota had been a Jedi Master with his own full army. His army may not have been the 501st, Vader's Fist, but they were still an army. Starkiller had only seen a small battalion when he entered the station and fought Kota... so where was Kota's army?

Did Kota have a team of Jedi under him? Did he gather refugee Jedi?

He was a Master and all Masters have an apprentice. So... where was the apprentice?

He knew what he needed to do. He didn't feel Jedi through the Force, but his gut told him the Jedi were out there. And when the Jedi reveals himself through the Force, Starkiller would be ready.

The door opened and PROXY entered the apartment. "You look tired." Starkiller remarked.

"Imperial presence has risen fifteen percent today. Evasion has pushed my power cells nearly to the limit." PROXY had yet to rest today.

Starkiller rubbed his chin in thought. "Fifteen percent. That's a lot in one day." There had to be a reason and Starkiller had a bad feeling he knew what that was.

"I'm heading out." Starkiller told his robot partner. "Knocking out some small bounties should provide decent exercise."

"Do you want me to handle the exchange, master?"

Starkiller opened a drawer and pulled out his mask. The modified mask had arrived that morning with all the bells and whistles he wanted. Today would prove a good test for it. "No, I got it. I don't have a name for myself yet, but I'll think of one."

**-Juno Eclipse-**

**-Somewhere...-**

Juno was getting really tired of waking up in strange places under someone else's control, but it seemed her latest kidnapper least was more decent than her last.

She had assumed at first the man with the lightsaber was Starkiller, and had let exhaustion take her in relief. Waking up in a strange place, with a bed, a well lit room, some bread, and a locked door, had proven otherwise.

With the bread still in her mouth she unlatched the panel by the door. The door lock was fried, but what most people don't consider is going for the door itself. It's hard to program wires to prevent entry when you pull them out and apply them to other places. All she needed now was a spark on the yellow wire... and...

The door opened. 'Bingo!' She cheered mentally.

Except there was a man standing in the way with a surprised expression on his face. His hair was golden and his build was broad and filled out. He looked like he was in his early thirties.

"Well, you're full of surprises aren't you?" He remarked. He extended his hand and Juno found the world being throw around her. She landed roughly on the bed, but immediately jumped off and tried to establish distance between herself and the Force User.

He entered in and glanced at the wiring briefly, contemplating, before returning his attention to her. His composure softened. "Listen, I realize you are confused right now, but it's okay, no one here is going to harm you."

"No one as in plural?" She fished for information.

He chuckled in good nature. "Yes, as in plural. There are many of us here, but not one is here to going to harm you. We brought you here to help. One of our cells tracked the Doll Maker and we rescued you and your friends."

Juno didn't say anything, but continued keeping her distance. The man watched her patiently and sat down. He motioned for her to do the same. Juno briefly glanced at the door, but considering the man was a Force user, and there were more out there, her odds of running for it was nil. She cooperated, albeit cautiously.

He smiled. "Good, good. Now... ask away. I'm sure you have questions."

"Let's start with where I am."

He answered without hesitation. "District 7207, Dawn Street building 31. There is a public bus stop two streets down to the... west, I think. There are three bakery two blocks down, all next to each other." He chuckled. "A pawn shop, breakfast house, Hardware Hut, and hotel. Although just between us, the hotel is too pricey. I'd rather live here."

"And what is here?"

He smiled, "My place." He said vaguely.

"How long have I been here?"

"Just one full day. You haven't missed much. Stress exhaustion does that..." He eyed her up and down. "As well as malnutrition."

She felt her cheeks flare in embarrassment.

"Don't worry, we have food and want to help." He explained further.

"Uh-huh..." She didn't believe it. She had spent months on this planet fighting against the system without being exposed, and all she knew was that you can't. You lose. You get nothing and have to fight for scraps. The system was designed for you to lose and have to turn into squabbering predators out for blood amongst your fellow prisoners in order to survive.

Why would they be so nice and want to help?

"Believe me if you want, or don't. For today it's just a bit of bread, but once your stomach learns how to digest properly again, we should upgrade you to soup and eventually meats and vegetables again."

Her mouth watered at the thought, and she struggled not to let it show. Instead, she latched on to one thought. "How long do you expect me to be here?"

"At least two days so our doc can make sure none of the preservative entered your blood stream, and then as long as you want provided you work for your lodging. Hey, now, don't look at me like that! You won't be put into tiny little dresses and told to dance. There is always something to do around here, and, to be fair, after doc gives the all-clear, you can go if you want. You aren't a prisoner."

She nodded to the door. "Then why the locked door?"

He smiled nervously. "Well... a few of the other people we rescued are a bit... excitable. They're harmless, but you need proper rest and therapy."

"Uh-huh..." She still found herself finding it hard to believe. No one was just a good Samaritan for the sake of it, especially on this planet. She had loyalty to Starkiller and needed him to help her get out of the mess they were in, so that would be her reasoning for the last six months, but she had no loyalty or knowledge of this guy. He had an ulterior motive. She just needed to figure out what it was.

He continued, "If you want, I can keep the door locked. I can see now that you can get past the lock anyway, so it shouldn't restrict you. Is that okay with you?"

"Unlocked." She tested him. "And no guards."

Again, he didn't hesitate, to her surprise. "Very well. No guards and the door will stay unlocked. But I'm warning you, they are really excitable." He chuckled with a wide smile.

Without her prompting, he stood up and left. Waiting exactly thirty seconds after he left, she tried the door. True to his word it was unlocked.

She tried again two minutes later. Still unlocked, no guards. She glanced down the hall and found the hall was lined in room after room after room. A couple mercs walked by joking with each other. They didn't pay her any mind, but clearly knew she was sitting there with the door wide open.

Puzzled and perplexed, she decided to test her boundaries by leaving it open and going to sleep.

**-Later-**

"YOURAWAKEYOURAWAKEYOURAWAKEYOURAWAKE!"

Juno screamed and violently flashed around against the terror around her, only to find the floor come up at her. The impact made the world spin around her and it took a moment to realize there was a high-pitched voice next to her. The voice belonged to a little girl. Said little girl jumped up on the bed where she was a moment ago.

"YOURAWAKE!"

This must be the energetic person the man was talking about. Perhaps testing her boundaries with the door was not the wisest decision... yet.

"No, I wasn't, but I am now." Juno groaned. She didn't know who the girl was, but she was going to strangle her mother. It should be a mortal sin to be an exploding combination of rainbows, super novas, and sweets at... "What time is it?" She mumbled as best as she could. It probably came out as something in another language.

"23154.91E!" The girl answered immediately by Imperial time.

Imperial time was a simple decimal system. Days were split into a hundred minutes, ten hours, and a year was the thousands. The days were based on Coruscant with four hundred days in a year, so It wasn't based on the old format where the spin of a planet was taken into account. It was based Palpatine's personal preference. Day 0 was the birth of the Empire. It was based on man-made design and an ordered system rather than nature.

Every planet had their own time version to split days and years though, even if they were not 'politically correct'.

"Evening huh..." Juno rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

"YEP!" The little girl kicked her legs back and forth from the bed. She had a wide smile on her face.

Juno climbed to her feet and examined the girl. She looked human, but something about the sparkle in her eye was alien. It was almost like... there were glowing lines in her iris.

Actually, now that Juno was paying attention, there was a number on the girl's temple.

"Where'd you get that?"

"Oh, men write it!" She smiled happily. Too happily.

"What men?"

"Men with slug man!"

So... a Hutt. Typical. 'Can't this girl tone it down?' Juno wondered. She was only in her presence for a few minutes and already she was developing a migraine.

"Listen uh..." Juno fished for a name, but the girl just stared at her blankly. "What's your name?"

"Slave!"

Juno stared at her a moment. She pushed back the distaste in her gut that the first thing this girl thinks of as a name is that. "No. Not your status with the people here, your name."

"Slave!" She cocked her head to the side curiously. "And these people not call me slave. They call me girl!"

"No, no. Not that. Your name."

"Huh?" The girl looked at her like she was crazy.

"It's not that she doesn't understand you, Mrs. Eclipse, but she simply has known no other name to associate herself by." A man said from the door. It was the man from before with golden hair.

"Light-stick person!" The girl leaped from the bed and hugged him. He patted her head.

"Go on, girl. Your brother is awake now."

"Okay! He needs help with doing stuff! Bye!" The girl raced off.

Juno watched her go and turned her attention back to the man. He smiled unabashed. "She's a sweet thing. Despite her condition. I did warn you she is excitable. She overflows with energy and a need to move to the point that she would be dead from clumsiness if she wasn't..." His smile dropped sadly for a brief moment. He changed the conversation. "But anyway. How are you feeling? I'm told you made no attempts to run away."

"So I am a prisoner." She confirmed defiantly.

"No. You don't have to be a prisoner to run away from something. Such as an illusion."

"So NOW your saying my place here is all in my head."

He stared at her in disbelief before chuckling to himself. "You are making it very hard to help. I guess that can be expected from your prior condition."

"Hard to accept help from a man I don't trust or know."

"Falon Grey." He smiled warmly. "Now you know me."

"That still leaves trust." She let herself sit down. As much as she wanted to have a defiant, strong front against him, something about his natural warmth and openness made it difficult to remember that she couldn't trust anyone right now.

She had been betrayed a couple times in too short a time to just roll over and expose her belly. First her leader, then people in general, than a friend. Starkiller was the only person who had yet to betray her, and despite his proclamations of respecting loyalty, she found herself wondering if he would betray her too one day.

"That it does." His smile didn't leave him, but rather grew slightly. "Would you like to walk and stretch your legs? The doctor tells me you are in better health than it first appears."

'No.' Was her first thought, but then thought better of it. It had been a while since she had walked. She felt cramped and needed space.

"Fine." She said.

He stepped aside and motioned for her to lead, and she did. He walked beside her. The halls were so clean they sparkled. Many of the doors had a small window on it, and brief glances passing by showed people of all kinds, ages, and races, but a common trait among them was... cleanliness and a healthy glow. They looked fed and having some semblance of hygiene.

"Where am I?" Juno asked. Peering from one room to another. "This doesn't look like any part of Nar Shadaa I've ever seen."

"I thought I've already answered that." He smiled. For that matter, when wasn't he smiling? It was getting annoying.

"Yes. We are on Nar Shadaa. In a district and all, but isn't the only clean parts of Nar Shadaa owned by Hutts and gold-plated? This looks more like a psych ward or doctor office. No..." Juno mentally slapped herself. Of course she knew. She was slipping.

"It's a ship." The gentle hum of the walls was discrete but there. The vibration shook her from her feet to her head and the rhythm, like an old friend, made her smile.

"Yes." He didn't say anything more.

'So. They're actively mobile.' She concluded. The ship implied a need for mobility over reinforcing their position or hiding. She greatly doubted this was a charity case run by a Jedi. Something like this would be hunted down by Hutts and put down for being bad for business, or the same by the Empire simply for existing.

They were active and move around to stay hidden. The only thing was: what was it they were doing here?

The Force user had rescued her, had a lot of people here moving around freely, made them healthy and better, and had a girl here with... some kind of special condition. It could be linked to the eyes somehow. The way they almost glowed was unnatural. It wasn't like a Sith, she had seen their eyes before, and she had never heard of Jedi eyes glowing.

"About the girl." Juno decided to ask as they walked. They passed areas of the ship she recognized as being a lounge, a cafeteria, sleeping quarters for tens of people at a time, bathrooms, corridors between the walls for engineering. The ship was extensive and had a lot of features that made her fingers itch.

"Did she wake you up?"

"Yes."

"Sorry, she is like that with everyone that's new. And everyone that isn't." He chuckled.

"No, no. It's fine. She's cute. But you said that she had a condition? What kind of condition?"

Immediately all good cheer in him dissipated and for a moment his eyes looked haunted. He kept walking all the same and Juno, despite how on-edge she was, felt she had asked something private and dark. "It's fine. Don't worry about it." She changed her mind.

"No. I feel you won't be able to relax until you understand where you are, and she is a prime example. As you have figured out I am a Jedi. This is my ship. Here, me and those loyal to me and my master live and work. We have a number of ships and operate largely independently of each other. We were one of the armies that operated in the Clone Wars independent of clones."

Juno wondered why he was revealing so much information and grew uncomfortable with it. She was a former Imperial pilot. She had taken shots at people like this. Formerly anyway. She didn't know where she stood on that anymore, and she wondered what the Jedi would do if he knew.

The thought of what he would do terrified her, but she kept her peace and let him talk. He seemed... sad about it all. Not angry or resentful.

"That's how you escaped Order 66." She concluded.

He nodded. "My opinion of the matter is irrelevant. I don't know about the situation on Coruscant. I don't know who is wrong or right. All I knew at the time is that one day I'm fighting droids to help the Republic, the next we receive orders for our own troops to execute us. We fled and hid. My Master and I had different views on how to proceed. He was more involved with the Council, knew more, couldn't move on easily, and decided to fight back. I haven't heard from him in six months..."

'I'm sorry.' She found herself thinking. She immediately pushed the thought away. Despite his sob story, there was no excuse. Some Jedi were accepted in the Empire so long as they swore allegiance to Palpatine. Those that didn't only showed where their allegiance lay: With the council that had tried to usurp the Senate.

But then did she have any right to talk? She was in much the same position and her loyalty had been absolute.

'Had been.' She realized were her own thoughts. When had it gone from 'was' to 'had been'? Not wanting to think about it further, she asked, "And your view?"

"Help the everyday person."

"Even though the everyday person here is just as likely to stab you in the back?"

He smiled again, almost like a shy young boy. It was warm and passionate, but resolved. "If I die making sure people are happy and have a better life... or even saving lives... isn't it worth it? I don't want to die running with my tail between my legs or..." His eyes darkened briefly. "drunk in a pub somewhere."

She didn't know what to say to that. Whether his criminal status was justified or not in the order of law, he was clearly a good person. She wasn't the best judge of character, but she was observant. The people were happy and taken care of... and he had saved her after all.

That or it was just a giant facade. She wasn't sure which it was anymore. The constant depression of Nar Shadaa felt... gone. The atmosphere was entirely different.

He opened a door and they entered the cafeteria through a side door. He motioned to where the line was and they entered it. She didn't have to say she was hungry, and he didn't have to ask. She was so enthralled in her thoughts it wouldn't have mattered. She grabbed a few slices of bread. It was better than just a small bowl of rice.

"Anyway, we split up before he went off for his little war, and the men that stayed with me have been watching Nar Shadaa as best we can." He continued with his plate full and looking for a table reasonably private.

The men scattered around the room glanced up at her, but didn't seem to give her a second thought. The sight of a run-down, filthy, much-too-thin, banshee hair woman must be a common sight around here. Juno chose to sit on the side closest to the wall where she could see everyone.

Just because she was willing to not think of them openly as enemies as much as five minutes ago didn't mean she wasn't careful. Whether the Jedi noticed or cared, he didn't show.

Falon continued, "That girl and her twin brother are a pair of slaves we picked up when we first arrived here. We raid the Hutts and Imperials, free slaves, smuggle off families with no chance of survival in this piss-pot, and do the occasional community service in finding criminals that all parties involved can agree on. Which is how we found you."

"That's quite an agenda. How haven't you been found yet?"

"Only by doing much less than we want to be able to..." He said sadly. "The first big raid we did included the girl and her brother. They were the big prize of the slave auction that day worth a trillion credits."

Juno spit up what little water she did have in her mouth. "WHAT?!" She whispered loudly.

A tr-tr-trillion?! That's the price of a couple fully equipped Star Destroyers!

"Minimum." He commented.

"Holy..." She put her head in her hands and struggled to control her breathing.

The girl couldn't be older than six. She was so cute. How can someone like her be worth that... much...

It had to be related to the eyes somehow.

"I'm guessing this is when you explain her condition."

He nodded. "She and her brother are among the last of a breed of super-humans the Hutts have been experimenting on for centuries. There are many unusual features about them. Hereditary Cybernetic implants on the cellular level, telepathy, mind reading when trained... They both die if one does... The biggest part is how their memories are split between them."

"Split?" Juno murmured. That was... horrible.

He nodded. "The girl is entirely muscle memory and instinct. She can do martial arts like a master just from watching it once on the holonet and is more acrobatic than any Force user her age, but that's her body. Her mind only remembers events going past thirty days. She knows how to do things ranging from lock picking to flying to fixing an exquisite dinner because her body memorizes and absorbs information like a sponge, but she doesn't ever remember how she learned it. She doesn't know what she is capable of, what her name is, or who any of her friends are past thirty days ago. All she can do... is just do things. Even I don't know the extent of the skills pumped into her brain."

Juno felt like she was going to be sick.

"The boy." He continued. "Is the opposite. No muscle memory. He can walk with a cane, albeit very slowly. He can eat, use the fresher, and drink and turn door knobs... all on his own, but if you want anything more, don't. Every movement he makes is like the first time he's ever done it. His strength is his mind. He has photographic memory across all six of his senses constantly, if you include his shared thoughts with his sister. He remembers the faintest sound or how the air tastes at all times. He is also a genius, able to do calculations that are over my head constantly."

He drank some and continued eating for a moment as he let the information settle. "They're a team. He memorizes a language instantly, tells it to her, and if she copies him at least once she has it down permanently down to the accent. They taught themselves Bagoran in an hour, right in front of me."

"Wow."

"She takes care of him, and he makes sure she remembers the little things."

"Like a name?"

"Actually, 'slave' is their name. We picked them up long enough ago for her to forget how bad it was. They were born into slavery, and didn't need a name beyond a designation number. We've tried coming up with a name for them... but nothing sticks with them."

"Why not?" She wondered curiously.

He shrugged. "She never likes them and he won't accept reminding her of names she won't like."

Juno thought back to the girl and her twin brother she had yet to meet, and considered their strengths. One could be anything that required physical movement she could see at least once. That had infinite possibilities. The ones most probable for Hutts to exploit is hidden assassin, thief, bodyguard, dancer, or lover of some kind one day.

Meanwhile the boy would become a database of information of all kinds, and especially economic calculation. The boy, if exploited correctly, could be shown millions of economic occurrences in history, the reasons they occurred, and be able to predict every major movement in the future down to the daily lottery numbers and how his master could ride the tide.

Machines can't predict like people can.

Or be a silent observer, possibly seeing or hearing through the eyes of his sister (Juno had no idea how strong the connection was between them) and be able to remember secrets for forever of a confidential nature.

Perhaps Juno was over thinking what the two could do. There was no way two kids could be that incredible.

Unless the Hutts were experimenting on them for generations and generations and putting up a calculated price tag of trillions.

Juno groaned into her hands. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"I'm sorry. I said all these things so you would understand we didn't bring you here to exploit you, but-"

"I get it. Thanks for saving me... Ohh, I really think I'm going to be sick." Juno said quickly.

**-Later Later-**

Turns out, Juno was actually sick. It wasn't anything that would normally have an effect on her, but her immune system had dropped over the months. She had been hovering on the edge of being affected or not up until all of the excitement of the last few days caught up with her.

The doctor recommended bed rest. There were no questions asked, no terms, no payment, no conditions. The only 'condition' was to help around with chores along with everyone else for as long as she was there. Which wasn't even a condition in her mind as much as an excuse to be moving around.

Juno was given food and was (constantly) visited by the girl and on one occasion, her brother. He was the thinnest, most sorry excuse for a young man she had ever laid eyes on and her womanly instincts was to hug him until his eyes popped out like a cartoon doll. It took him a full minute to walk through the door because of having to coordinate his body movements and staying balanced. She had half expected him to have no muscle at all from not being able to move much, but he explained that he could do some basic movements like lifting weights with his hands or feet to keep that from happening. Slowly spoken, of course. (If his sister straps them to his wrists and ankles, all he has to do is lift.)

At first she was skeptical of this place. She had to be. It was the only way to survive here, she reminded herself. but as the days went by and there was nothing expected of her, she found herself able to finally relax. One night she woke up crying. It had been so long since she had the slightest bit of hope and she knew from the bottom of her heart that she was thankful.

**-I'm getting tired of all the 'laters'.-**

Juno nervously watched the clock on the wall. Falon said he would be back five minutes ago! He's late!

The girl giggled. "You seem antsy!"

"Yeah well, I'm waiting for the news." She argued. The girl shrugged and occupied herself by running up the side of the wall, landing in a hand stand, and walking around on her hands.

Juno tried really hard not to be jealous.

"News on your mystery boooooyfriiiend!" The girl teased.

"He's not my boyfriend. He's a friend who might be worried about me."

"Who is also a boy!"

Juno rolled her eyes. There was no getting to her.

The door opened and none too soon! Falon walked in. Juno must have been excited because he took a step back from her and she realized she was in his face. Damn the girls excitement was contagious...

"So?" Juno asked hopefully.

Falon shook his head and Juno fell. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Eclipse. Bendak was not where you said he would be, nor was there any droid."

"Any note?"

He shook his head.

"Nothing?..."

"I'm sorry, the place looked like it hadn't been touched in a while. Everything was as you said it would be. We even checked where we picked you up and found the warehouse burned to the ground."

"That had to be them if it wasn't you."

"What makes you think that?" Falon asked warily.

She smiled sheepishly. "Well... Bendak has a thing for... blowing things up. Especially when you get on his bad side."

'Yeah, let's not explain Bendak is a fake name to a former Sith agent without a proper name beyond the codename 'Starkiller' personally trained by Vader himself. Yeah, that would go over really well.' She thought. 'Wow, even my thoughts are sarcastic. Heh...'

Falon supplied, "Well, at the very least we can hope that it is a sign he didn't abandon you and managed to track you down to the Doll Maker. If we had left you originally, he might have run into you, but then so might have the Doll Maker. We never ran into him." Falon scrunched his eyes in thought.

"What?"

"The Doll Maker was confirmed dead sometime after we picked you up. His bounty was turned in." Seeing her eyes light up in hope, he suggested, "How about we look into that?"

"Yes, thanks. Its... odd though."

"What makes you say that?" He asked.

"It doesn't seem like something he would do. Last we talked it was about laying low." She averted his eyes. "We're... not... exactly on the Empire's good side."

He nodded in understanding despite his ignorance, "Aren't we all? Unfortunately that means you should probably avoid going outside the ship too far."

"Why?" She wondered. She had been allowed to come and go as she pleased. She didn't have the credits to get a taxi all the way to where she had lived before, and Falon had lead a team to see if her friend was there and waiting for her, to confirm a 'home' to leave her with. If Bendak had been there, Falon would have returned only to take her back. But now there was no Bendak, no 'home', and she was being told not to walk around too much.

What was going on? Where was Starkiller?

"The Empire has increased in numbers by the thousands. A Star Destroyer arrived yesterday with a full load of troops and supplies. Truth is, we may have to leave and head for another area to lay low... Or even leave the planet entirely." Seeing her expression, Falon assured her, "Don't worry. We will stay as long as we can and investigate. We have some work left to do in this area anyway. I can't say how long, but as long as we can. When we have to leave, if we still haven't found your friend, you are free to stay with us."

"Thank you." Juno tried to smile, but she still had a bad feeling about this.

A Star Destroyer.

* * *

**_Note: HELP! What name shall Starkiller use for his alias to his alias to his name that is already an alias? I'm having trouble coming up with one. Its the name he will be known by most of the Galaxy._**


	7. S01 Ep07

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, so no sue!

* * *

"Will of the people. Their dreams to achieve something. Their knowledge and freedom of right and wrong. So long as people exist, these things will never die. These things will never be choked or removed; and the harder you try, the harder it will fight back. You are fighting nature itself. Let me tell you something, 'Lord Vader'... Emperor. Even if you extinguish my kind, there's no way our flame will ever burn out. It is one passed down since ancient times. You try not because of who we are, but because of what you fear. You fear that one day someone will stand up in my stead carrying the burden of all the years of your oppression and war and manipulation and betrayal, all on his shoulders. And for him there will be no hesitation... when he comes he will challenge the age to war. And the galaxy will be turned on its head by him just as much as it was by you! That is what you fear! YOU FEAR THE HARBINGER OF ALL YOUR SINS!" -Some Jedi

* * *

**-Juno Eclipse-**

**-Streets of Nar Shadaa-**

Juno Eclipse watched as Imperial storm troopers asked questions and showed pictures of Falon Grey.

The Imperial Star Destroyer had changed everything. Falon Grey and his cell had to go underground deeper and moved around twice when the locals were being looked at too closely. Juno didn't know about the other cells beyond whispers among the Jedi's loyal men, but the last she heard they had been ordered to disappear and hide as well.

Juno was by no means a soldier of his, but she offered to help. She had grown stronger with time and now was as healthy as she once was. It felt good going for runs and tinkering with spare parts when she was allowed. Falon Grey had found her useful in many areas. She was as skilled as any of his mechanics, a solid pilot, had a healthy perception of the chain of command, and was intellectual enough to offer stimulating conversation.

The men had taken in to her well and there were whispers of her staying… as if. She had made it perfectly clear that if they find Bendak she would be returning to her friends. She merely wanted to help in their work and besides: they were good people.

She saw first-hand the work Falon Grey did for the locals. He not only fed them, but taught them how to make gardens and feed themselves. The people were taught about the importance of hygiene and how to make strides toward being clean. Once they found an old counterfeit warehouse and printed books of math, grammar, and basic sciences with the equipment instead of money.

Juno wished they could stay in one place longer than this but the Imperials and Hutts were getting closer each day. According to 'sources', which Falon would not elaborate on, there was a new man in charge of the Imperial Inquisition Marines. This worried Falon greatly. He barely spoke a word to anyone these days, settling himself into meditation or working alongside his intelligence.

With Falon's silence, a man named Kanan Jarrus was left in charge, not that he was asked or asked himself, but the men naturally turned to him as if he was a natural leader. Highly unlikely, as his approach was to aloofly tell them 'to do what they felt was right'. The man wasn't lazy, rather he always was the first to put himself on the line, but he didn't seem to have any appreciation for the chain of command nor the authority to give orders. Between his laid back attitude and gun on his hip-holster, he looked like a nerfboy. (Note: cowboy)

Juno returned to the Ascendant, the name of the ship, and reported what she had found directly to Falon. Falon was stooped over his desk, intelligence and information all around him, and his composure was dark and thoughtful. Not dark in an almost sadistic justice way like Starkiller's was, but as if he had a great weight on his shoulders.

When Juno was done describing how the scouting mission had gone, Falon stood up, walked to the map on the wall, and marked off a square. There were a lot of marked off squares. "I'm sorry." Juno said.

"It's not your fault, Mrs. Eclipse." He replied, staring at the map. "If anything, I should be the one apologizing. It's wrong for you to be caught up in a struggle that doesn't involve you."

'If only you knew…' She thought grimly. Despite her trust in his intentions, she had not told them anything from before arriving on Nar Shadaa. That was the kind of information that no one would ever know if she could manage it. She would take it to her grave.

And where did she fit in between the Imperial and Jedi struggle? The Imperial soldiers were just men and woman, like her, that were out to protect their nation from terrorists and rebels. While the Jedi and their loyalists were men and women, like her, that had been framed by the very leaders that should be protecting them. The Jedi Council may have gone after Palpatine, but men like Falon Grey and Kanan Jarrus? No. Juno wasn't dumb. There were thousands of Jedi, possibly millions, across the galaxy. Four, maybe five, men attacked Palpatine and even then only ten, at most, would have known.

The only Jedi Council members to not be found in the first days of the Empire were Yoda, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Anakin Skywalker. They should be the ones blamed and captured and put in jail. Not all them.

"Don't be. I'm not running away. I'm here because I want to be. I know very well what we're dealing with."

"That's a pale comfort right now."

"Even if I wasn't successful, was anyone else?" She asked, blatantly changing the subject back to the matter at hand. Someone else might have found a place where they can go and hide for a while.

He sighed deeply. "No. We're running out of options. It's not just the Imperials, but the Hutts. My bounty has risen three times."

"That's significant, but is that really a reason to be worried? You're a Jedi."

He looked up at her, unfathomable emotion in his orbs. "It is 'significant' because every other bounty in the surrounding districts have been taken in record time, and all by the same person. Whoever this 'Harbinger' is, he is good and determined. There are usually a healthy number of bounties on a Hutt planet, but he's knocking them out like Bounty Hunting is going out of season. I now have the highest bounty a thousand districts wide."

Her eyes widened. That was nearly a continent worth of land. "You are worried the 'Harbinger' will come after you?"

"He's avoided me so far, but it's not just him, it's what he is doing. He is thinning out the 'prey' dangerously low. The 'predators' have no choice but to pick up and find greener pastures or compete over what is left. My 'contact' says the Imperial garrison is gathering bounty hunters for something big, and I got a bad feeling about what it is."

The one thing worth the Imperial's time, money, and that many bounty hunters was a Jedi, one that had eluded them thus far. It went unsaid who that was.

"What should we do?" Juno asked.

He looked at her pensively for a long moment, considering, thinking. "Nothing."

**-Falon Grey-**

**-A bar on Nar Shadaa-**

"And to all of our loyal subjects, keep your eyes out for traitorous scum that would deter you from the love of your Empire, and bait you with pretty words and hateful lies. The agenda of the Jedi is to finish what they started twenty one years ago, the death of our glorious Empire! They would have you believe them to be victims, but is it wrong for us to seek to defend our home? When burglers break in and attack, is it not our right to defend ourselves? Palpatine did, and he will be the first to admit he is no longer the most handsome bachelor anymore with the scars he received. Do not be fooled! You are not sheep! You are proud men! For the Empire!"

As the transmission went on, Falon observed it and noted the people in front of the screen and behind it. The people were largely uninterested. They wanted to watch the gladiator matches and sport leagues. They wanted to see strippers and singers, not the hype of the Empire. There were plenty around the bar that proudly yelled out 'For the Empire' as it ended, but there were many, Falon noted, that kept their heads down and tried to disappear and hide within the crowd. They could be hiding from people around them, sure, but Falon felt that while there were proud Imperialists, there were those that were... not.

It was warming to see that not everyone bought the latest dose of Imperial bull. Lying was at the top of Falon's bad list, but he didn't know what parts of the man's words were lies and deceit or truth. Falon didn't know what had transpired on Coruscant those years ago. He was but a Padawan at the time.

Falon didn't have the same zeal his master did. Rahm Kota knew what had happened. He was involved with the whole situation on some level, or at least gave his opinion on it when it happened. Kota never could move on and that cost him his life... Falon could move on, and here he was, still alive and watchful for his men.

But Falon felt that the same road Kota took calling him. Kota wanted a better life for his men, his Padawan, himself, and he wasn't content to run and hide. Falon didn't agree with it at the time, but now that he was in charge nine months later... He wondered.

Falon's men were not just soldiers that would be happy to disappear out in the middle of nowhere, they were men with families now. Some of them were nearing the age of retirement and had grandchildren on some planet. In the span of twenty years these soldiers had become fathers, husbands, and men. And that made Falon's heart ache. Because many of them could never see their children or wives for fear of being caught by the Empire. Some of them had already lost their families to witch hunts that interrogated and tortured the families. And there was only so much hiding and moving could do now.

They had moved from Yavin, to Hoth, to Peru, to... Falon didn't even know where. So many places, and then to Nar Shadaa. Falon could tell his men were growing weary with age and the years of stress clinging to their bones. Their families were unhappy, and there were some wanting to pick up and leave, but couldn't because they were already criminals.

They had spent twenty years watching their backs, always on the move, always running, because of lies. Falon didn't have a family, but he felt the burden of all his men on his shoulders. He didn't know much more running he had in him... How much further could he go before they were caught?

He was getting fed up and at times wanted to strike back at the injustice, to lash out, to be angry and know that justice was on his side if he spoke out. But he couldn't. He was powerless.

Falon sipped his drink and watched the news. It was nothing he didn't already know a week before from his 'contact', but it amused him to see how the Empire tweaked the facts.

Falon felt the end was coming and there was only one ending to all of this he could imagine.

His datapad rang.

It was his 'contact'.

Putting his earpiece in, he said, "I'm here."

"That's bad." His contact said on the other end. "You might not want to be here, if you don't know what's going to happen already, don't look. Just run."

"What are you talking about?" Falon sighed wearily. "What's going to happen?"

"I am not telling you if you don't already know! Consider your ignorance a blessing."

That was unusual. His contact sounded distressed. "Did one of my men get caught?"

"No, but I'm not telling you."

"Have they found me?"

"No! Do not give me twenty-questions to figure it out! You need to run! Now and whatever you do, don't look back! And don't call me back!" With that, the contact hung up on him.

Falon looked down at the datapad for a long moment. Never before had his contact sounded this distressed. Falon ran through a number of scenarios in his head over what the person could be upset about, and none of them involved personal danger to Falon since the person's species wasn't exactly known for empathy, yet he still was upset for Falon's case.

Obviously the Empire was close, or the Hutts (which wasn't any better.) Falon picked up his coat and left. He wiped the datapad and tossed it off the railing down into Nar Shadaa.

Falon returned to the Ascendant to find a mess. People were freaking out and running all over the place. Panicking, Falon looked for Kanan. "Kanan, what's going on?"

"The twins found something on the net. Something big!" Kanan replied, he showed with his hands how big it was.

Falon paled in fright. "Have we been found?"

"Something just as bad. We need to help before its too late!" For the normally laid-back Kanan to be all up in arms to go help someone or something told Falon how serious the situation was, and he didn't even know what it was!

Falon's contact had told him something was happening, something big, and to run.

Falon's instinct said to find out and risk diving into something to 'help' whoever this was.

But Falon could also be getting his men killed because of it. The Empire was closer with each passing day.

"What is it?"

"The twins hacked into the Imperial database and were scrounging around when they found plans. Plans to blow up a lower city tram filled with rachghoul disease patients!"

Falon felt like someone had doused him in cold water.

Rachghoul disease was the worst plague in the galaxy. It spread most easily through planets where filth was prominent and where the Hutts had established a status quo of them versus everyone else. The Hutts were immune, but few species were, and it had been what helped the Hutts become dominant. Falon had a suspision that the Hutts purposefully used the disease and spread it themselves to keep themselves in superiority.

Rachghoul disease was a fearsome plague that transformed you into a bloodthirsty monster on four legs that was the closest things to zombies Falon could imagine. A single scratch or bite was death.

There was a cure, but it was pricy and the Hutts ensured that only the rich could have access.

For the Empire to resort to this… it… it was unspeakable. Falon grit his teeth in anger and felt his master's old words coming back to him. He remembered the conversation that had lead to his master retaliating against the Empire and dieing.

Right now Falon felt like following in his steps.

Was this the danger his contact had warned him about? Did his contact know how he would react?

Well, his contact was right. It smelled of a trap, but Falon wasn't going to let a whole tram full of people die as bait. Falon glanced over his men and noted how they were waiting on his word. Even Juno Eclipse looked ready to move as she leaned against the wall, however, there was heavy conflict in her eyes. 'Why is she at war with herself?' Falon wondered.

"I'm going." Falon announced.

"Not without us you're not!" "We're coming too!" His men yelled.

Falon smiled, "I know. But everyone, these are dangerous times. The Empire is on our doorstep. If we all go it will draw attention. Your efforts are better spent on preparing for our departure."

"So are we just going to let it happen?"

"No. I will go with a small team. The rest of you disappear and prepare for 'Cat Adoption'. Kanon's in charge." He commanded.

"What?!" Most of the room demanded. Juno looked around curiously. The men started to press the Jedi, but Kanon simply nodded and yelled for everyone to settle down while he tried to regain some control.

Falon motioned to Juno for her to follow. Juno obliged. "What's 'Cat Adoption'" She asked.

"It's code word for something I won't tell you. With you not being directly one of us, it doesn't involve you. However, I will say that this ship won't be here tomorrow, no matter what. So I'm taking you with me to go on the mission and one other I can trust to have our back, just in case."

"You're taking me, because you're going to leave me?" She concluded. It hurt a bit to admit it, but she had grown fond of them.

"I'm sorry, but this is where we will part ways. You have been a big help and I am happy to see you have recovered well, but your goal is still to reunite with your friends right?"

"Yeah..."

He smiled reassuringly. "Don't look so sad. It's a small galaxy. You may see us again."

"I'm not sad." She denied with a pout.

"Right, right." He opened a door and Juno followed him in. It shut behind them and lights flickered on. Her eyes widened for a moment in surprise. She had never been in here before.

There was storm trooper armor lined up on the walls and a couple crates full of weapons. Rifles, rocket launchers, sniper rifles, camouflage nets, frag grenades, EMP grenades, pulse rifles, pistols, miniguns… They were in limited supply, but the sight at first is still enough to make you hesitate.

Falon walked over to the storm trooper armor and pulled two off the rack.

"I'm to assume we will be doing infiltration into Imperial territory?" Juno asked as he handed her one.

"Yes. The nearest elevator to the lower city is an Imperial one. These outfits will get us in."

Juno looked over the outfit. For some reason the sight of the armor that once comforted her now filled her with dread, like was putting on something black and sticky. She looked up to find Falon remove his outer robe and climb into the bottom half of the armor. "A little help?" He asked.

"Sure."

Juno took the back half of the torso and pressed it against his back, making sure to work his arms through the loops. He pulled the front half against his torso and snapped the two together. He flexed around a bit. "Whoo… Thankfully these are designed for muscular soldiers."

He picked the helmet up and after placing it on his head, snapped it into place. "Testing."

"I hear you." She confirmed.

"Aaalllright." He gave her a thumbs up. "I'll be outside when you're done."

Falon shut the door behind himself to give her some privacy. Juno examined the armor. She frowned deeply. She didn't want to get into it. She really didn't want to get into the armor. The sight of it alone made her uncomfortable.

But Falon needed her help in saving people and she was expendable, in a sense, as someone who would be staying behind.

**-Starkiller-**

**-Waiting outside a warehouse-**

"And then he went 'WOOSH' and 'BAM', the guy was down for the count!" A voice in his earpiece yelled.

"Exciting." Starkiller muttered.

"No, no! Not exciting! It was-" The guy suddenly screamed like he was cheering at a stadium. The scream went straight to Starkiller's eardrums and he snatched the earpiece away from his head to keep from having his ear imploded. Even a foot away he could clearly hear the idiot screaming.

He was also designated as A-4.

"SHUT UP!" Another voice said in the comm. His designation on the mission was A-1.

"Aww, if you hatin on it, than that's your problem." A-4 retorted.

"I'm going to make it your problem! I think I speak for the rest of us when I say 'we don't give a Hutt's boiled ASS about the game you saw!' If you insist on taking up our comms with this useless chatter, I will personally put a bullet between your eyes from up here!"

"Here, here." A fourth person agreed. He was A-3.

"Thank you." A woman said. She was A-5.

A growl entered the comm as well. The sixth member of the team was a Wookie. The translation was: "Agreed." He was A-2.

"Wow, okay, okay. I get it… idiots." A-4 went silent.

"We do have to give him credit for at least staying quiet for the first six hours." A-5 whispered.

Starkiller gave his consent. A-4 may be a loudmouth moron, but he was a decent saboteur so far as his credentials went. He was good enough for the Imperials at least, and that told Starkiller not to underestimate him. A-1 was a sniper, A-2 was a Wookie merc pulled out of the Gladiator arena just for this, A-3 was your average Mandalorian-style merc, A-5 was the same as A-3, and this left Starkiller as A-6. He was there to get in close.

The plan was simple and one orchestrated by the Imperial Inquisitor. Starkiller didn't recognize him, but the Dark Side in him was obvious enough. The man practically flaunted it. Starkiller had to focus on containing himself to keep from being caught at all times.

A-4 was to blow up the warehouse, A-3 and A-5 were to give covering fire while A-6 and A-2 blitzed in, and A-1 was to search for anyone giving orders and end him. Namely a Jedi by the name of Falon Grey.

Of course, Starkiller had other plans. The Inquisitor had hired them and was present as well to personally see to the Jedi's death. Starkiller had sworn not to be hired by Imperials, but this was an opportunity too good to pass up. It would be a major portion of his plan if pulled off right. It was why he joined the operation to begin with.

Now if only the Jedi could show up.

The seventh hour came and went, followed by the eight, and still no sign of these 'Jedi scum'. Starkiller sheathed his blade and turned off the night vision on his mask. He leaned back and rested his eyes a moment. The night was a chilly one.

"Anyone else get the feeling the guest of honor isn't showing up for his own party?" A-4 asked.

A-2 growled, "I'm getting tired of this."

"A-0, the information is accurate right?" A-5 asked.

A-0 was the Inquisitor. He was nearby relaxing with a glass of wine and waiting. "I assure you, A-5, it was."

"Then either this Jedi has you lead around by your nose, or the information is just wrong."

A-0 scoffed in their ear. "Imperial Intelligence is rarely wrong."

'Except you happened to hire a bounty-hunter who is really a so-called-dead Sith Apprentice to your own Sith Lord.' Starkiller thought smugly. He sighed, "As much as I hate to take sides, Imperial Intelligence is quite good. Something is wrong. Jedi are usually punctual when they make up their minds to do something." The mask slightly muffled Starkiller's voice to make him appear like a different man. An older one with a deeper voice that sounded more authoritative than he really was, being a spry teenager.

"I will look into it. Stand-by." A-0 said before going silent.

"Which translates into: I'm right, your wrong, and I'll see you all tomorrow." A-5 muttered.

"Cynical aren't we?" A-4 mocked.

"Shut up."

Starkiller wished he could sense through the Force for Light side signatures, but that would require opening himself to the Force for the Inquisitor to feel. Starkiller would appear to be a rogue Sith, which he was, and while that wasn't near as bad as appearing to be a Jedi, it still was premature in his plans.

Starkiller had developed plans on his army. He knew how the Imperial mind worked and how to use their responses to his rise to his advantage. He had an idea on who to recruit, who to approach, and how to begin. He had stockpiled money from collecting high bounties by the dozen, occasionally doing mercenary jobs like security detail and bodyguard, and entered as a gladiator once. The fight had been contained to animals, captured criminals, and great beasts. To make matters sweeter, he had PROXY bet everything they had on him while he fought and when they left they had come out twice as rich, with the arena bonus ontop of that. Starkiller had kept PROXY busy collecting information on factions around the area and people of power likely to join him against the Cartel or Empire.

Starkiller had the money, information, and resolve to begin. He just needed to set the first phase in motion.

If only the Jedi would get here!

"There appears to be a change of plans," A-0 spoke up. "The Hutts have attracted the Jedi's attention. We're moving out."

"Typical…" A-5 sighed.

"Will we intercept on the target while on the move or be waiting to ambush? Some intel would be nice." A-1 said evenly.

"I'll explain while we move. Sending the destination to everyone. You have two minutes to return."

"Understood." "Yeah…" "(Growl)." "Coming." "Awwww!"

The Wookie, A-2, growled his disappointment. He picked up his choice weapons. The Wookie's weapon consisted of two wooden shields as long as the length of his arm. The shields were covered in a powered shield to reflect most energy projectiles and at the end of the shield he could extend a short broad-sword. The Wookie was a walking fortress. There was something about him Starkiller liked, but he couldn't place it. He only knew the guy for a while.

Starkiller rose and patted the dirt off his legs. He checked to be sure his vibroblade was secure on his back, and that his lightsaber was hidden in his clothes. "Don't worry, big guy. I'm sure you will get a taste of action soon."

**-Juno Eclipse-**

**-Imperial Elevator to the Lower Level-**

The terrain of Nar Shadaa was split into millions and millions of three-dimensional areas, all numbered, and were grouped together into larger districts. The major districts were numbered zero to sixteen, and there was one that belonged to the Empire exclusively. However, the three largest groups was the top level, mid level, and lower level, which, as the names implied, decided how high you were not only on the food chain, but how high you were from the surface.

The distance between the three levels was so massive that it would take days to walk it across hundreds of miles of labrynth like avenues and streets. The only practical method of directly going higher or lower was through major elevators. Every building had an elevator, sure, but the ones to cross all the way to the lower level from the top level were few and ancient.

The one chosen by Falon Grey was guarded by an Imperial checkpoint.

Juno felt herself visibly sweat as they stood at the checkpoint. Falon did all the talking, but Juno couldn't help but have worrying thoughts.

Would they have her remove her helmet?

Would they find out who she is?

Would they arrest her?

Would she be tried for treason for… simply knowing too much?

Juno still didn't know where she stood in the whole Vader versus Palpatine speculation. She had time to think on what Starkiller told her over time, but to know that Vader and Palpatine were at odds was too much. It was one thing to think that an outside enemy could threaten the peace of the Empire, but for the two most powerful figures, Lord Vader and Emperor Palpatine, to be trying to kill each other in plots and intrigue was like suddenly realizing that the peace she was surrounded in was a lie. Reality was she was involved in a political civil war that had yet to truly come to blows. She felt like she was standing on dynamite about to explode. The moment Vader decided it was time, he could raise his hand and bring the empire into chaos, and war would break out. Or Palpatine could execute Vader, and suddenly all the fear and control Vader's presence gave would disappear and Palpatine's enemies would speculate that Palpatine had weakened.

And did Juno believe in Palpatine? Did she believe in Vader? Did she believe in Starkiller?

Technically, she felt Palpatine was in the right. Palpatine had ordered Vader to kill an assassin after him, and he would have believed that Juno was involved by her choice of companion. However, she couldn't just sit here and think he was entirely blameless, simply because he was wrong. She wasn't complicent. She just needed an opportunity to prove she wasn't a traitor.

But her helping a Jedi evade the Empire and helping locals hadn't exactly helped that either, and that was where she didn't know where she stood on Palpatine. She couldn't just ignore the people suffering around her. Did that make her a traitor? She didn't see Falon as a bad person.

Vader was just simply in the wrong. He was a traitor, raised a child up to do his dirty work for him like a coward, and then tossed the child aside like he was nothing only to buy back a few diplomatic points from a man that obviously knew he was out to kill him. Palpatine wouldn't be stupid. He would continue to be wary of Vader.

Then there was Starkiller… She could admire his sense of loyalty to a father figure, and she felt truly sorry for him being betrayed, but she couldn't deny he was complacent in it. Starkiller was a traitor. Juno couldn't think of him as evil for it, because that was how he was raised. And she could even go so far as to say he was a friend… But then if she chose to associate herself with him longer, she would have no choice but to be a rogue on the run following him into whatever hole he decides to dig himself into.

The storm trooper gave his consent for them to enter, and Falon and Juno entered the elevator. The door closed behind them and the elevator jolted as it started its descent. Falon removed his helmet and breathed a sigh of relief before chuckling, "That was easy! How Master died to them, I don't understand."

Juno didn't remove her helmet, but chose to fret and worry inside herself. What to do… what to do…

"Are you okay?" Falon asked worriedly. "Your emitting a lot of tension, and it doesn't strike me as you being worried about the mission."

"I'm fine." She said automatically.

"No. You're not." He said knowingly. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. But I can't have you hesitating or not paying attention if things go south. So I'm going to have to ask that you either push your concern and thoughts into the back of your mind to go through later, or spend the time we have talking so I can put your concerns to rest."

"Thank you, but… I can't…"

"Can't or won't?"

"…" Juno stared out the window of the elevator and watched as they descended. The dirty filth of Nar Shadaa slowly gave way to what could only be described as a wasteland of dirt, rust, piles of trash thrown down from above, and the occassional starved animal running across her vision.

"I feel like I am between a rock, a hard place, and an even bigger rock." Juno admitted.

"Sounds like a fun place to be." Falon joked offhandedly.

"I used to be a good… citizen of the Empire." Juno watched his expression closely. He didn't react the way she expected. He raised an eyebrow and looked at her as if to say 'and?'

"If you're worried about me doing something about that, don't. The Empire controls the galaxy. A part of that means the vast majority of the galactic population is Imperial. You could say I used to be as well."

Juno didn't admit it, but it was nice to know he wouldn't be pulling out his lightsaber on her just because she was an Imperial once. Although she purposefully didn't say how high up she went. "Thank you, but that's not it. My family has been loyal to the Republic or Empire for generations. Six generations of fathers are… police or soldiers at one point or another. Including my own. Father is an Officer in the Empire military."

Would he think she was betraying him or was a liar living among them? Juno waited for his response.

"And you worry about his approval of your… situation?" He asked carefully.

Well, not yet she hadn't, but that's just another concern to have amidst the millions of worries in her head. She had expected the Jedi to take it differetenyl. Yet again, he went outside her expectations.

"Not exactly." She hugged herself and watched the lights flicker around the elevator. "I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, heard something I shouldn't have, and immediately had to go on the run with Bendak. Now if I am caught I will be tried for treason! I'm… I'm not a traitor!" She yelled. "I have always done my best and apparently that means nothing! I'm not like-" She immediately shut her mouth.

"us." He finished for her. He frowned. Juno's eyes flicked over him worriedly wondering if he would do anything to her. Whether she recognize it or not, her posture was highly defensive and had taken a step away from him. Falon simply watched her passively as he mulled it over.

'Clearly her family history does bother her, or she wouldn't bring it up. Either it shows she is worried about how father would react, or she followed in her family's footsteps due to a possible lack of older brothers -being such a tomboy possibly from a father who wanted sons- and became a soldier, or both. A soldier would explain her skilled piloting and understand of Imperial movements and protocols. No, an officer. Someone who has been in a position of leadership. Normal soldiers are not taught to think, only to obey. She has a moral code beyond 'obey obey obey', so she is still capable of independent thought. She has also braved staying associate with criminals like us for the sake of helping others.' Falon smirked. 'So she isn't as rigid as the rest. And courageous.'

There was a chance she was a spy and was lieing, but he doubted it. She had too many opportunities passed up to be an agent, and he could read her easily. She was terrified. She had been worrying in the back of her mind all this time that if he ever found out that he would kill her.

"You were a former officer of the Imperial Navy." Falon concluded. She flinched, clearly caught.

He sighed and pinched his nose. "I do not appreciate being lied to, but the fear is understandable. My reputation precedes me despite everything I have done."

"You're not mad?"

"I am mad. I'm angry, but what good would that do?" He asked her seriously. "Ever since we found you, it has been a Jedi and Imperial Officer doing good things for people around them. That's the way it should be, not… this." He motioned outside. "While words can most certainly mean a lot, actions speak louder still. You were willing to risk my wrath to stay and help us, and now you're coming clean with an amazingly little amount of effort."

They stood in uncomfortable silence. Falon stopped appearing familiar and warm, and that hurt her. He stood like a professional rather than the fun, relaxed man she had come to see him as, and she hated it. He said, "So, again, what is really troubling you? What are these 'rocks' of yours?"

She looked down. "I am in the middle of opposites sides that are poised for conflict, and I don't know what to do. I'm innocent… do I stay with Bendak? Do I return to the Empire and try to have Palpatine understand?"

"Look at me…" He said gently. Juno looked up at him. "I'm a Jedi. What does that mean?"

"Traitor?"

"It means a selfless person taught to help others at the expense of themselves. To have a strong moral code that affects every part of my life style. In theory, the ideal hero. Now, despite it all, do you think Palpatine was forgiving at all when a few of us committed treason?"

"No."

"So what are the odds of him forgiving you for what he thinks is your treason?"

Juno looked down, knowing he was right. How could she be so stupid?

"Its fine if you still want to try. I won't blame you or think any less of you. But think of it this way. If you go to Palpatine, you will undoubtedly be betraying us and others in order to buy his favor. While if you don't, you will be turning your back to a man that has betrayed you with as little thought as an offhanded- gesture. And that's not what a leader should be. A leader should take careful thought, review all information, and come to a practical decision free of personal judgement and wrath."

Falon walked beside her and looked out the window. They were nearing the bottom. "You don't have to tell me what decision you want to make. I'm going to stop the bombing, even knowing it's a trap. You are free to come, you are free to stay, and you are free to return to the ship. I won't speak a word of what is said here. I brought you along intending to drop you off at a nice place on the way back, but that is no longer the case. I'll be dropping you off here." His eyes turned to the storm trooper outfits sitting on the ground. "Those will get you access to the Empire again. Follow me, go back up wearing the outfits… it's up to you. If you follow me, we'll accept you. If you go back up, well… May the Force be with you." He offered her one last obnoxious smirk.

**-Falon Grey-**

**-Lower Nar Shadaa-**

Falon pushed Juno out of his mind. He said what he wanted to say. Now all that was left was to see if she would disappear or follow.

The door opened and immediately two scrangly, thin men with knives stood in his way. "Hey! You! Up-worlder! Anyone using this elevator has to pay the toll!" One of them said.

"Yeah!" The other agreed.

"This is our elevator! If you use it, you've got to give us something!"

"Yeah!" The other agreed, again.

"I can't believe this. Even the lower city is trying to shake us." Juno murmured behind him.

"Five credits! That's what it costs to use our elevator!" The first one said.

Falon looked them over briefly, weighing his conscious. Finally he shook his head. "This is a public utility. I'm not paying."

Growing angry, the second one swiped at him with the knife. Falon grabbed his wrist, spun the man around, pinned it behind his back, pulled his wrist up so high his fingers loosened and the knife dropped, then kicked him in the behind. The beggar fell face-first into the dirt. The first one, that had done all the talking to this point, took a step back fearfully.

Falon turned his impatience onto the first. Thankfully he didn't have to rebuke them verbally because another woman was running in their direction. "HEY! Get lost you two! Scram! Go!" She shooed them away and whether it was fear of her or fear of him, they ran and disappeared into the tents. The area around the elavor was surrounded in makeshift tents and huts. It wasn't as bad as Falon would have thought for constructions made from trash.

"I'm sorry about those two. They give this village a bad name." The woman apologized for them.

"Village?" Juno asked in amazement.

"Mhmm." She smiled. She tried to hide it, but she was clearly amazed by them. Her eyes were big and studying them like they were alien. "Most of us are good people. We aren't all like those two."

"I'm sure you are, its just too bad the welcmoing committee is there to give people a bad first impression." Juno said in understanding.

Falon glanced around. With so little light, and no maps, getting lost down here would be easy. Perhaps getting on their good side would be helpful. "I'm Falon Grey. What's your name?"

"I am Shaleena." She offered. She looked shy a moment. "You're… from the up-world, aren't you? I was born here. I've… I've never seen it. Is it as nice as they say up there?"

"It's nothing particularly special." Falon shrugged.

"Not to you, I suppose. But you're probably used to its beauty by now. I've never been to the surface, but sometimes I think I can see it in my dreams. The sun, the sky, the stars. It all sounds so… so… wonderful. Gendar, the leader of our village, tells me I should spend more time trying to improve things down here and less time dreaming about something I can never have."

"Listen um, Shaleena. I don't mean to hurt your feelings, but I'm here for a purpose and perhaps you could help me."

"Oh!" She gasped and reddened furiously. "I'm so sorry! I do tend to… yeah. I… um. Yeah. What can I do?"

"I'm looking for a particular tram station… can you read?" Falon hated having to ask it, but it was a plausible question down here.

She fiddled with her hands and shook her head. "Okay, well. It has these symbols." He wrote the name of the station on a pad and handed it to her. She studied it over. "If you have been here your whole life, perhaps you might recognize it."

It took a moment, but the light bulb went on and she brightened, "Yes! Yes, I know these markings! I have seen them before. I know where it is!"

"Great. Can you show me where?" Falon asked.

Her composure dropped, "Its outside the village. I can't leave."

"I understand. Is there anyone else I can ask?"

"Not really. It's not that I don't want to help, but it's the Rakghouls. One cut and your gone. They're everywhere down here. We can only go a short distance to pick up trash thrown down from the up-world before running back in for safety."

"Oh, I'm so sorry…" Juno said.

"Can you point me in a general direction then?" Falon asked.

"Yeah! It's um… that way." She pointed. Falon looked in the direction beyond the walls and tried to find any landmarks. There were a few things his eyes caught on that he could use.

"Thank you, miss. It was nice meeting you." Falon bowed.

Her face dropped in disappointment. "Oh… okay. Well… If you ever need anything, or… you know… if you just feel like talking. Come back and seem. I hardly ever get a chance to speak to someone from the up-world."

"Sure." Falon walked off. To his pleasant surprise, Juno chose to follow him rather than take the elevator back up.

"You don't have to be so hard on them…" She said.

They walked to the edge of what appeared to be a makeshift gate. An old man stood guard and Falon convinced him to open the gate for them depart. The old man tried to warn them, but after it was obvious they wouldn't be deterred, he just sighed, commented on how their fate was their own, and let them out.

Falon was barely three steps out before he had to cut in half his first Rakghoul. The beast-men were everywhere. Juno pulled out a pistol and shot any that took too much of an interest in them. Despite the danger, the walk was amazingly calm. Only a few Rakghoul decided they were lunch.

"What do you mean?" Falon asked.

"You could have given them the credits, or been nicer to her."

"I was polite, and I let her ramble. She appreciated having someone listen to her."

"Yeah, but…"

"I know our overall mission is to help others, but we cannot help everyone, Mrs. Eclipse. Unfortunately you have to choose your battles. Yes, I could have given them five credits. Force, I could have given them twenty… but realistically, where would they use it? Have you seen any shops down here? Anywhere they can use currency from the higher levels?"

"Well… no…"

"Then the credits would have been little more than a sugar pill, in a sense. If I had extra food on me, I might have provided that. Its something that would actually help. I wish it was as easy as throwing money at people, but its not…"

Juno sighed. "I understand."

"And the woman… I feel for her. I really do. I can't imagine what its like to not know what the stars look like, but we are here to keep a few hundred people from being blown up. We can't get attached to every needy person down here or we will never leave."

She didn't say anything to that.

"Sucks having to decide on who to help and who to leave behind, doesn't it?"

She nodded mutely.

"Welcome to the life of a Jedi. The ones you help think you're a savior, and the rest think you're a traitor or villain." He cut another Rakghoul in half as it lunged at them and kept walking. He glanced at her, "I appreciate you deciding to come along."

"You're welcome…" Juno said sadly. Her heart went out for the little village that slowly disappeared in the distance.

Thankfully, the warehouse in question wasn't too far. An hour of walking and they found the station. Inside was a whole nest of Rakghouls. Falon used the Force to make them think they heard a noise and smelled meat somewhere else, and then locked the door behind them. "That should keep them out."

"Now what?"

"Now… we wait. The tram should arrive shortly."

"How does a tram even survive down here?"

"I don't know. It's a utility."

They waited. They waited for what felt like a very long time. Finally, Falon said, "It should have been here by now…" He stepped down onto the tram tracks and felt it with his hands. "Nothing is coming." Without warning he sprinted down the tunnel.

"Falon!" Juno yelled, but he kept going and disappeared into the darkness. "Dang it…" She climbed down and ran after him. He ran down the tunnel ahead of her and out of the darkness appeared a broken tram.

Did the bomb go off already?

Without any prompting, Falon took the back door clean off its hinges with the Force, and jumped in. Juno had to climb in like a normal person. What they found made them stop and stare in disbelief.

-Starkiller-

-Undercity of Nar Shadaa-

Leave it to Imperial intelligence to find the location of a trap set by someone else, and get them there first. Starkiller was almost pleased. Almost. If only it wasn't Imperial.

He sat patiently waiting in the shadows. Next to him, A-2 sat as well. The rest of the team were off doing their own thing, and A-4 had to be compensated with a rocket launcher instead of other explosives, because he didn't have time to set it up this time around.

"We have incoming." A-1 said.

"About time." A-5 responded.

Starkiller jumped off his butt to his feet and stayed crouched. In the distance two people came running. One was clearly the Jedi from the lightsaber. The Jedi took the back of the tram off easily and jumped in. "Hold…" A-0 said patiently to all of them.

The second one climbed in.

"Now?" A-4 asked desperately.

"No. Hold. Do not do anything until I say." A-0 snapped. Then, without warning, he left his post and entered the tram through the front. A-0, the inquisitor, also took along two of his guards.

"What are you doing?" A-1 demanded.

"What I want. And you will not do anything until I say otherwise." Then the line went silent. Suffice to say, A-5 raged at the Sith.

Starkiller narrowed his eyes. He was very close to the tram. He didn't like this. Although, it didn't really change anything for him. Now he just needed to push the time table a bit.

Starkiller stood up, left his post, and jumped in to the back of the tram. "A-3 WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU-" Starkiller took his earpiece off. A-0 didn't know he was here, and he didn't care about how much the others were annoying. To his amazement, A-2 climbed in right behind him.

The Wookie snapped his own earpiece between his fingers. "Can't let you have all the fun."

Starkiller smirked behind the mask and followed the Jedi and his friend deeper into the tram. Something about the people around him bothered Starkiller. It was odd enough for the tram to be stopped… but then everyone around should have been reacting to him in some way and the Wookie right behind him.

"What happened here?' The Wookie murmured.

Starkiller shrugged. Didn't matter to him. Down at the other far end a red lightsaber sparked and clearly the Inquisitor decided to make his entrance.

"Amazing isn't it? Sometimes even I marvel at the ingenuity of Hutts."

"Its not amazing!" The Jedi seethed.

"Oh, but it is! To think, to use live bait for a Jedi. Only… wait. Its not live bait! What better bait then to use already-dead corpses!"

So that's what was wrong here. The people had already been dead.

The Inquisitor spun his lightsaber gleefully. "Its brilliant. No casualties. Drag a Jedi out of hiding. It's the kind of clean, practical thought I would expect from our Emperor! Only shows that great minds think alike! And who is this little friend of yours, hmm?"

The inquisitor walked closer until the red and blue lightsabers nearly touched and he saw the woman's face. His eyes widened. "You. I know you. You're the traitor Vader wants so badly."

Starkiller didn't know what was going on, but he had enough. He ignited his red lightsaber. The wookie jumped and looked at him like he had grown a second head, and the woman leaned fearfully into the Jedi's back with a pistol pointed at him.

"So you brought a friend… How nice of you." The Jedi said.

"No… No I didn't." The Inquisitor responded, his stunned eyes on Starkiller briefly before turning to realization. He laughed loudly in amusement. "It would appear we have both been played! Tell me, are you a Sith for the Hutts? Another agent I don't know about? Who are you?"

"I'm the Harbinger of all your sins."


	8. S01 Ep08

If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge? - William Shakespeare

**-Starkiller-**  
**-Inside the Tram-**

"The Harbinger... of my sins." The Inquisitor said thoughtfully. "Harbinger. Being a forerunner? A Herald? Or is it perhaps messenger of the gods? Tell me, 'Harbinger', what exactly are my sins? Murder? Stealing? And what exactly is your purpose here? Did the Emperor send another agent without my knowledge or are you a rogue Dark Side user that works for an unsanctioned party? The Dark Side ripples off of you in waves. I was blind to have not seen it before, but now it is apparent. You are trained in the Dark Side."

That was a lot of questions Starkiller didn't care to answer. "I will give you one chance. Walk away."

"And why exactly should I do that?"

"It is more than I have ever given anyone else."

The Inquisitor smirked widely. He recognized the threat for what it was, and seemed amused by it. Pity, Starkiller wasn't trying to be amusing. "See now, young Sith, I am here under the orders of the Sith Lords. I bear their authority, their will, and you, on the other hand, have shown no authority save your own. What can you possibly be in comparison to the powers that have my back? I have the Dark Side, I have the Empire. You..." The Inquisitor motioned up with his saber slightly. "You have a Wookie, and if his confusion means anything, you don't even have that."

"You have nothing." Starkiller replied. "This is Nar Shadaa. If you die here, then Palpatine will not shed a tear. He will laugh and mock your death and how your flesh was fed to rakghouls." The inquisitor dropped the smile and snarled. "I'm giving you this one chance. Walk away. Let me have the Jedi and the girl."

"No one is touching her." Falon stated.

"As much as I adore the sensation of two, no, three men fighting over me, I'm not that kind of girl. I'm staying with Falon, thank you very much." Juno said. Her pistol was pointed at Starkiller and she considered him a threat.

Starkiller doubted she really could hurt him, being who he was, but admired her attitude. He wanted to toss the mask and reveal himself, for her sake, at the very least, but the present circumstances made things complicated.

His voice was being fed through a modulator so there was no way she would recognize it, and he was not about to reveal his face.

Oh, she loved complicating things didn't she? A part of Starkiller was amused. It was definitely fitting for her personality to liven things up without even trying.

A sensation of anger hit Starkiller and he realized the wookie behind him was getting angry. "You're taking the target?" He asked.

The Inquisitor chuckled, "And there we go. Just like that, you are surrounded. Yes, A-2. Mister 'Harbinger' over there wants to take the Jedi all for himself and leave you with nothing."

"Is that true?" The Wookie snarled.

Hm, yes, that's pretty much right. Starkiller had every intention of taking the Jedi for himself and leaving the rest with nothing but a bunch of dead bodies, but confirming it was dangerous. "Then what about you? A-0?"

"What about me?"

"This is a trap set by the Hutts, not by the Empire. You took us here for the Jedi, but we are ALL inside the Hutt's trap. When the Hutts spring their trap, who do you think they will find first? The people inside the tram or the people outside?" Starkiller sensed the Wookies anger was being directed back to the Inquisitor, and Starkiller fed his anger further. "The answer is obviously those on the outside. To make it worse, the ones on the outside are looking inward, not outward. They will all be hit from behind, but then you knew that didn't you?"

The Wookie roared angrily, and the inquisitor took a step back from the fearsome sound despite how much more powerful he probably was. Juno shook fearfully and even the Jedi turned his head to monitor the Wookie.

Starkiller pressed on, "That's why you cut off communication to come inside here on your own. You left us outside to become the distraction and die to buy you time to jump train with the damsel in distress and the knight in shining robes. It's all very overly dramatic for you and invented in the matter of hours it took to get here."

Starkiller explained simply. "Its betrayal. Plain and simple."

"IM GOING TO TEAR YOU APART!" The Wookie yelled and walked toward him with his twin shields raised.

"Hold." Starkiller put his hand out and grabbed the Wookie's arm. The Wookie stopped long enough to look back at him. "Shouldn't you go warn the others?"

The Wookie turned back to the inquisitor, snarled, looked back to Starkiller, thought about it, and finally nodded. "Give him a punch for me." He growled.

"Will do."

The Wookie walked past him, stepped off the tram, and started making noise that Starkiller didn't bother paying attention to.

That was one less complication.

"Impressive. Truly impressive. I thought you were something special, A-3, but you continue to exceed my expectations." The Inquisitor acknowledged.

"That doesn't matter. Like I said, you have nothing."

"... Before I decide what to do with you, let me ask you one simple question. What do you intend to do with the Jedi?"

"Why do I feel like an object being passed back and forth?" Falon whispered.

"Welcome to feeling like a woman." Juno replied.

Starkiller chuckled. His chuckle was full of malice and dark intent, but also glee. For so long he had contained himself, but now he felt he could release his true intentions. It was one of the many beginning steps he had planned, and how the inquisitor just kept giving him opportunities! Starkiller had thought he had to hunt the Jedi himself, only, the Empire gave the Jedi over just like that. Starkiller thought he had to lay out his intentions at some point, and still will have to, but now he could say it openly, honestly, and with less... flare perhaps, but more intrigue in return.

The sound of his laugh sent chills down Juno's spine.

It felt good finally able to honestly say what he felt. "I'm going to bring the Empire to its KNEES!"

He might as well have set a nuke off in the room because everyone was blindsided.

Even the two stone-like guards the Inquisitor had around him faltered. The Inquisitor, Jedi, and Juno, all looked like they had been slapped in the face with a fish. The Jedi forgot the Inquisitor entirely and turned around to fully face Starkiller, while the inquisitors full and undivided attention was on Starkiller, and Juno lowered her weapon to spend more effort in gaping.

The Inquisitor reset his features to one of disdain. "I take it back... You're not interesting. You're a fool. Like so many others... you're ordinary. There's nothing special about you at all. You're just another malcontent with a death wish."

"I take it your answer is no?"

"My answer is no."

"Then here's mine." Starkiller threw his lightsaber. The lightsaber spun around Falon and came at the Inquisitor. One of his two guards stepped in and knocked it to the ground. Starkiller wasted no time in calling his lightsaber back and running forward to physically grab the Jedi if he had to. Juno remembered herself and raised her pistol again, but Starkiller cut it at the barrel, he didn't want to hurt her after all, and instead of extending his hand, had to extend his lightsaber to parry a blow from the inquisitor and Jedi both. Their three lightsabers met.

"I'm taking you both in." The Inquisitor said.

"He's coming with me." Starkiller returned.

"Do I get a choice?" Falon asked.

"No." Both Sith said at once.

Starkiller flicked up the three-pronged connection of lightsabers and tried to reach around the Jedi to strike at the Inquisitor, but Juno and the Jedi had other plans. Juno fired a point-blank shot at Starkiller, Starkiller spun backwards, tossed a dead body at her, and to her horror and disgust (more disgust) she was knocked back into the seats of dead bodies on the other side.

If the situation wasn't so messed up, Starkiller might laugh at seeing Juno's face while being sandwiched between no less than four dead, rotting corpses. It was like she was covered in roaches, only worse.

Juno struggled and managed to get her pistol out and free. Before she could fire it at him, Starkiller Force-Pulled it out of her hand and put it on his own belt. She could have it later when things were calm.

For extra measure, Starkiller threw another body on her and squeezed the seats together to keep her pinned.

"Stay down." He told her. With Juno nice and comfortable, so to speak, Starkiller turned his attention to the lightsaber battle.

Falon Grey and the Inquisitor were locked in combat in the cramped space, and Falon was losing.

Falon's thoughts were evident. He was wary of Starkiller, and did not allow himself to be pushed back closer to Starkiller and lose ground even when on the losing end of the duel. He also limited his lightsaber movements to not strike the dead bodies out of some misplaced moral issue.

The Inquisitor had no such qualms. He pushed forward freely and cut everything around him, dead or otherwise, with ever increasingly strong and fast strikes on the Jedi. He saw a weakness and like a blood hound with a scent, he pressed in on it.

The inquisitor's guards struggled to insert themselves into the melee.

This was too cramped.

Starkiller generated a sizable amount of power and threw it into the flooring. An explosion of Force energy rippled through the tram and the walls exploded outward. The Jedi and Sith were pushed away in the explosion but landed nimbly on their feet. The Jedi looked like he wanted to escape, and the Sith would give chase, but with Juno pinned down under bodies, and the fighting all around them, it would be difficult.

Simply put, it was chaos.

The mercenaries and Stormtroopers were fighting Hutt mercenaries and were fighting a horde of Rakghouls. The Rakghouls swarmed on anything that moved and ate them like fast zombies with great claws. The Hutt mercs shot at anything that wasn't them, and the Stormtroopers and Imperial mercs struggled to hold position. Starkiller caught the wookie merc spin his twin-shields around swatting enemies aside and reflecting laser bolts.

Then the Imperial mercs caught sight of the Sith, and out of revenge, started shooting in their direction as well, causing the Stormtroopers to realize they were no longer allies.

It was a six way battle between so many different squads and teams Starkiller couldn't be bothered to figure it out.

All that mattered was getting the Jedi, and Juno, and getting out. Falon wasn't leaving, and the Sith planned to kill him.

With room to move now, Starkiller ran around the table and inserted himself on the Sith side. He threw a plate of metal at the Inquisitor.

The Inquisitor's two Sith guards stopped it, and intercepted Starkiller's approach. They swung their spears rapidly, had thick armor designed to absorb plasma energy, and apparently a fair bit of muscle to back it all up. they were adept at basic Sith techniques, such as telekinesis and lightning redirection, but they were still amateurs to him.

Starkiller dove under a spear swing and rose up to cut the first guard clean in half from the bottom up. The second guard hesitated in surprise, not expecting his companion to be subdued so suddenly, and it spelled his doom. Starkiller removed hands at the forearm and beheaded him in a spin as he adjusted himself to confront the Inquisitor.

The Inquisitor's attention was primarily on the Jedi, but how quickly Starkiller subdued his guards did not go unnoticed. the Inquisitor started to sweat. He pulled out a second lightsaber which started spinning around his hand and Starkiller moved in on him as the same time as Falon. The Inquisitor was pinned between them, and Starkiller danced around, not allowing him to move out.

The roar of Rakghoul in the distance made Starkiller worry.

He needed to finish this.

Starkiller thrust down, and locked blades with the Inquisitor. At the same time, he grabbed both of the spears used by the guards and threw them. The two lightspears pierced the Inquisitor's back and Starkiller followed it with a strong Force push to slam him into a wall of the tunnel. Before the man had time to open his eyes or groan, his head was cleaved in half.

Three Sith down and Starkiller was only starting to breathe heavily.

Falon stepped back cautiously and kept his saber up. "You subdued them... and so easily!"

"That's the difference between them and me. They fight to oppress, I fight to kill." Starkiller answered. Starkiller turned off his lightsaber "But I am not here to kill you. I am here to get you out. I'm here as an ally."

"Uh-huh... Why should I believe you? I don't know you! You came here to 'take me away'. I understand your desire to hurt the Empire. They have committed many crimes and have made a lot of enemies, but it is not in my agenda to be an ally to someone who is as foolish as my master was before he died, and not to mention you are a Sith yourself. You reek of the Dark Side!"

Starkiller fought not to sigh or grimace. He expected resistance. It shouldn't have come as a surprise. "I can give you many reasons, but as we are pressed for time-" The stormtroopers in the distance were in the process of being subdued by Rakghouls. It was growing worse by the second. "- then let me give you one. Kota isn't dead."

Falon's eyes widened. "He-how... how would you know!? He was on the space station when it blew up! And how would you know Kota?! Just who are you!?"

"Too many questions! Not enough time!" Starkiller argued. "I..." He couldn't say had a vision. "I ran into him at a bar! He is not on Nar Shadaa anymore, I don't know exactly where he is, but he is out there and very much alive! Falon, Jedi or Sith, you are not my enemy! Such things mean NOTHING to me! All I am here for is to help my friends and destroy the Empire, and I need your help to do it."

The Jedi continued to hold a lightsaber against him, but he looked like he was mulling it over. Starkiller wanted to yell at him to think faster, but couldn't push it. At last, Falon nodded. "I'll accept your help, for the moment. The Hutts, Imps, and Rakghouls are stirred up, and we could use your help getting out of here. After that I will talk. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Starkiller flipped on his lightsaber.

"I'll get her." Falon ran to where Juno was still pinned down.

Starkiller looked around. Bodies were everywhere. Thankfully, most of them were stormtroopers, hutt mercs, and rakghouls. The Imp mercs had been able to avoid being in the middle of the worst parts and had been warned thanks to Starkiller and the Wookie.

"A-2!" Starkiller yelled. "Gather everyone! We're banging out!"

The wookie swung his shields and knocked a pair of Rakghoul away. He took a moment to look to Starkiller and growl, "Did you kill the bastard?"

"Yeah, he won't be using his head anymore." Starkiller reached down and grabbed the head mic he had dropped earlier. He put it back in his hood and immediately he was being yelled at by everyone A-0 to Z-9. "Enough! We need to work together to get out of here!"

"Screw that. You guys are on your own. I'm out." A-1 went to static, as well as A-4.

"I'm moving." A-3 announced. A-5 grunted.

Before long, A-2, A-3, and A-5 had regrouped by him. A-3 and A-5 both had twin pistols. A-5 was covered in extra gear and gadgets while A-3 was a slim woman who was also agile.

"I presume you know the gist of what's going on?" Starkiller asked.

"You're a scheming bastard, A-0 was a betraying S.O.B, and we're screwed, but you are stronger than A-0 and wanna get out." A-3 replied. "I want to get out too."

"Glad we agree on something. F-Y-I, I'm keeping the Jedi."

A-5 looked to where the Jedi was approaching with Juno. Juno was visibly unhappy with the arrangement, but wasn't going to argue. Rakghoul gathered in the distance and prepared for another wave.

"You won't get any argument from me." A-5 answered. "Job's been screwed up to begin with and been to costly for my taste. Get me out of here alive, and I'll get you a beer."

A-5 was very reasonable. Starkiller liked that.

"Pft... whatever. Doubt I can stop you." A-3 scoffed.

"We set?" Falon asked. Starkiller nodded.


	9. S01 Ep09

"I'm going to bring the Empire to its KNEES!" - Harbinger (aka. Starkiller)

**-Starkiller-**

**-Lower Nar Shadaa-**

The group stopped inside the walls of the poor village and the gate was shut. Starkiller cut down the last remaining Rakghoul to come near and stepped in just before the gate was shut. The men in the village overlaid a block of wood in the gate to lock it down.

Starkiller looked over his little party.

The Mercenaries were well. The female Mandalorian had a sprained ankle from tripping over a rock, but was otherwise okay. They were all angry at being betrayed by their employers, and the Wookie was cradling his arm. He had been clawed by Rakghouls, and if the rumor was true of Rakghouls, then he would be transformed eventually. Although whether or not the disease affected Wookies was unknown, it was safe to assume he had a problem. Just in case.

If the Wookie was in danger of being transformed, then that wasn't too big a deal. Starkiller's plans would bring him close to the Hutts enough to get him a cure along the way, provided the Wookie wanted it, and was willing to owe him a favor.

"Does anyone know if Rakghoul disease affects Wookies?" Starkiller asked. His Harbinger mask transformed his voice. The Wookie looked up worriedly at his words.

"It might." Falon Grey said.

Hearing this, the Wookie feared, but Starkiller took him aside and asked, "What is your name?"

"My birth name is Jowwarr. It means 'space guide'."

"Jowwarr," Starkiller said. "I seek to bring trouble to the Hutts and to the Empire. If you join me, and swear yourself to me, I will see to it that you gain the Rakghoul cure."

Starkiller was not so desperate as to seek the loyalty of a single Wookie alone, but felt that the first steps of an army was on the individuals. If Jowwarr wanted to go and die an honorable death, it would have no impact on his plans, but if Jowwarr joined him, he would see that loyalty honored.

Already he had respect for the Wookie in leaving him to his kill, and choosing to protect his fellow mercs with which they joined the same mission with, and a part of him felt pity for the Wookie was abandoned by his slave master.

"And If I do not?" Jowwarr asked in his growls.

"Then I will have no responsibility towards you and will leave you to your own devices. You may die on your own, or seek the cure on your own, and you may even find the disease has no effect on you." Starkiller responded heavily. "But I believe in loyalty and believe that loyalty should be rewarded with respect and responsibility at the very least. I will not lie, the reward for loyalty may be death, as I may require you to die. But It will not be by deceit. You will go into death knowingly."

Jowwarr looked heavily upon him, and Starkiller waited. At last, the Wookie said, "What shall I call you?"

"You shall know me as Harbinger."

Jowwarr, the Wookie, said, "Harbinger, you have saved my life many times already. First you warned of the bomb and betrayal, then you lead the escape from the Rakghouls and cut down many, many of which were on me, and now you present to me opportunity for a cure, and a servanthood that is greater than any I have had. Always, I have believed that my death is not my own… But you believe in honor as a Wookie, so it is only right that a Wookie honors you. Bring justice on my former masters for their betrayal, or cure me, and I will serve."

Starkiller was taken back. He had not expected it to be so easy, and he did not consider his belief in loyalty to be parallel to that of a Wookie. It was simply how he was raised. Vader expected loyalty, and there was a simple chain of command. He gave loyalty and expected to serve and die at some point at the will of his master, but in turn only wanted Vader's respect. Love was beyond the Sith Lord, but respect, honor, and responsibility were everything Starkiller wanted and never received.

Starkiller composed himself and said, "Then Jowwarr, swear your life to me. You will serve me and protect me with your life. You will protect my secrets. You will obey my words. In return, I will honor and respect you as my personal knight."

"What mean 'knight'?"

"Uh… a soldier that serves his lord."

"I swear."

"Bow." Starkiller ignited his lightsabers. The Wookie bowed, and Starkiller knighted him as Vader did to him. His instinct said to recite the same words, that the Dark Side was with him. But the Wookie was not a Force sensitive, and this wasn't about Light and Darkness. This was about revenge, Vader, Palpatine, and the Empire. Jedi vs Sith ethics played no part in his war. "Stand. My knight."

Jowwarr stood. Starkiller nodded. "Stay right behind me, and a little on my right so you don't get in my way when I turn suddenly."

The Wookie nodded and Starkiller attended to business.

He smirked darkly inside. He had half-expected the Wookie to decline, but it had gone much better than expected. He underestimated the Wookie's beliefs in honor and debt.

Starkiller had a long list of tasks to be done here, and first and foremost was Juno. (Talking with Jowwarr had gone longer than expected, as it produced more results than expected.)

Starkiller wanted to show himself to Juno in as much as to show her he was safe. Whether she wanted to part ways was up to her, and he would honor that. She had saved his life, and he owed her a debt still. So, at the very least, he would not hide himself from her now that there was no longer a need for it.

He also wanted her for her usefulness. She was pleasant company, knew many of his secrets, and understood his position in the galaxy better than any; but she also had managed to place herself in the Jedi's fold. Getting her on his side would make it easier to talk with Falon Grey.

Falon Grey watched him cautiously as he approached, but Starkiller ignored him. "Juno Eclipse. If I may have a word."

Juno glared at him, but Falon nodded. "Stay where I can see you, Sith."

Starkiller rolled his eyes, but did not move his head otherwise. "What I have to say to her is between us. You have no part in it."

Falon opened his mouth to argue, But Juno said first, "It's fine. I can take care of myself."

"He killed the Sith Lord like it was nothing!"

"The man was hardly a Sith Lord…" Starkiller muttered. "He was little more than an acolyte given a fancy title."

"Regardless, I will be fine." Juno said. She motioned onward. "Lead the way."

Starkiller turned and they found a corner of the camp where few were. There was no one inside a tent, and Starkiller motioned inward. Juno did not move at first. Starkiller sighed, "I'm hardly going to rape you or anything. I just want to talk."

Juno was troubled, but entered into the tent and sat down. Starkiller said to Jowwarr, "Stand out of earshot and make sure no one comes near."

Jowwarr looked troubled, but nodded. Starkiller saw his trouble and said, "There will be many secrets I will keep from you. Some you will learn, but only after you have earned the right."

"I understand. There is no need to explain." Jowwarr replied. He stood a fair distance away and growled towards any that approached from the village of beggars and homeless.

Starkiller watched him a moment longer. He did not truly care if Jowwarr was troubled, the Wookie had sworn himself to him, but it wouldn't do for him to be questioning his allegiance already over something that will be only a part of the status quo. After all, Jowwarr had no way to know that Starkiller trusted Juno far more than him, and had to have expected to have some favor as a sworn knight of the Harbinger.

Jowwarr did look confused, but appeared resolute in his newly-formed allegiance.

Starkiller entered the tent and lowered the flap so him and Juno were hidden. Juno sat as far from him as possible within the tent and kept her hand near her pistol, but otherwise made no moves.

"You look good." Starkiller said. "Healthy, clean. I should thank the Jedi for taking care of you. I'm happy for you."

Juno looked troubled. "Do I know you?"

"You do." He said. He pushed his hood back and slowly removed his mask. He had the mask modified to snap into a helmet piece. (The original had been flimsy enough to use nothing more than a string.) There were also electronics implanted into it to allow a holographic interface within the one-way glass material. He set the mask aside and smiled.

"Hi."

Juno's eyes were wide. "You…"

Starkiller could not tell from her tone whether it was a good or bad sign, but waited.

She reached out to punch him, and expecting it to be in the face he did not move, but she hit him in the shoulder. "You jerk! I've been looking all over for you!"

"I am sorry," Starkiller chuckled. "I did not wish to be found by anyone, so… I wasn't. If anything, I should be the one to say that. We looked for you, and chased the bastard who captured you to his lair, but did not find you."

"Falon had found me. He had been keeping an eye on him already."

Starkiller nodded. That went with what Proxy and him figured. "Either way, I am glad to see you are okay. Have the Jedi treated you well?"

"Very, even helped me look for you."

Starkiller didn't like the idea of that. "You didn't tell them about me did you?"

"Only so far as to say you are a friend and your name is Bendak."

Starkiller considered that. He didn't like any links being made to himself, as Starkiller or as Harbinger, but he could hardly fault her. She had taken precaution in using the name selectively as she did and did not give away the information that he was a Sith. It had most likely been for her own good as well as his own.

But this also complicated matters. If he was to use her association with the Jedi to his advantage, the association with himself would need to be explainable to begin with. To create a link between himself and Juno as 'Bendak', would make a link between Harbinger and Bendak, where a link already could be traced from Bendak to Starkiller if one knew where to look.

She did not complicate things knowingly, but now Starkiller had to decide whether it was worth having their relationship as friends or friendly-acquaintances being out in the open or not.

"I am sorry, I did not tell you before. I could not reveal myself to the Imperial Sith nor Falon."

She glared at him, but he sensed no anger in it. "I realize that, but did you really have to dump dead bodies on me?! I mean… DEAD BODIES! Really!? I'm going to stink for months!" She shuddered. "Damn, I can still smell it."

"No hard feelings?" He asked.

She sighed and looked at him in thought. "No… I guess not. Just try to give me a signal of some kind next time."

"I'll try." He agreed. "But now we stand at a precarious position. I need Falon, but don't want him tracing my identity as Harbinger back to Starkiller, and then back to Vader. That wouldn't go well for either of us."

"Yeah… about that… What the hell was all that about?"

Starkiller looked at her curiously.

"The stuff about 'I'm going to bring the Empire to its knees' and crap?"

"I will." Starkiller said simply.

"I-you!" She was amazed. "You can't be serious!"

"I am very serious."

"We BARELY escaped the Empire already! We have been in hiding for a while now, and right now we are LITERALLY at the bottom of the food chain down here! Not to mention the Empire is THE intergalactic power right now with a good eighty-percent or more of the mapped galaxy in the Emperor's personal pocket! We are talking about THOUSANDS, no MILLIONS! Of worlds! How the actual hell are you going to bring all of that to its knees! You are one person! Two if you count proxy, and three if I am willing to come along, which, right now, I can't say considering I think you just lost what is left of your mind."

"You are right." Starkiller replied. "I am one man, and only have a droid and a Wookie with me right now. But I plan to bring an army to their doorstep and turn the galaxy upside down."

"An army?!" She looked at him like he was insane.

"That's right."

"Okay… what army?" She demanded. "I see no army. If you had one, we would have been with them by now instead of rotting away! You would have gone out of your way to get in contact with them and get us rescued."

Damnit. Starkiller knew she was right, but it sounded bad when put like that. She was smart. "Yes, I realize I do not have an army, yet. But I will."

"How?"

"Any way I can." Starkiller had a vague idea. He knew from his vision that a number of powerful players would join him, but he couldn't say who they were. Master Kudo had prophesized that he would play a role in Starkiller's life again, and being a general the man had contacts with armed groups that would join and suppliers. It was as good a place to start, but Starkiller imagined that many groups would have different reasons to join him. Some could be bought if he had money, others would need a moral reason, and others would need a sign.

Juno shook her head. "This is crazy. Absolutely crazy."

"So you're in?" Starkiller wondered.

"Star- Bendak." She corrected herself. "All I want… is a place to rest my head without feeling like I am being hunted day and night. I want to move on. I want to be able to get a half-way decent job, get a paycheck, eat, shower, have some neighbors that can pass for normal, and at least pretend to have a life. I can't just turn around and charge at the Empire. I'm not out for revenge or justice or anything…"

Starkiller couldn't understand that. Not that he didn't try, but the idea of what a normal life consisted of was beyond his understanding. All the same, "As much as I want to respect that, do you really think the Empire will leave you be? There is nowhere in the galaxy to go. This neighborhood you speak of will have Stormtroopers patrolling. Not because they suspect you are Juno Eclipse and live there, but simply because there is no corner of the galaxy where the Empire is not. Juno, the only way to be safe is to grab your safety with your own two hands and make it."

"Throwing myself at the Empire is hardly safe!"

"But being around people that know you're hunted and want you safe will." Starkiller argued. "If you want to leave me, that is up to you. But at the very least make it somewhere where I can feel you will be safe. Somewhere liberated from the Empire and won't turn you over rumors for a credit chip."

Juno turned away and considered it. She bit her lip and thought hard. It was all a difficult situation, and he was placing her in a difficult position. "Juno, if you don't want to be in my army, then don't be. But at least be a refugee in my army, be someone my rebellion can rescue."

She sighed and seemed to come to a decision. She rubbed her eyes. "Alright… Bendak. I'll follow along. But I will not take any orders."

It was less than what Starkiller wanted initially, but it made him feel better knowing he could ensure her safety with his own two hands.

"I can be asked to do favors, but as a friend. I am not part of any chain of command and expect to be able to say 'no' without it slapping me in the face." She added.

Okay… so at least that was something. It opened up a few options, but not many. Also meant they could stay in touch. "I understand." He lied. He respected her wish, but understanding her need to hide and run away from the problem was beyond him.

He picked up his mask and placed it on his face. His voice became distorted again. "Will you stay with the Jedi?"

"Probably for the best right now. He isn't looking for trouble like you." She jested. Starkiller chuckled.

"What shall we say then? I see no reason to hide we know each other, but I do not want him to know me as Bendak."

"Why not? There isn't a connection between Bendak and… the former you." She argued.

"I'm covering my bases. There might be."

"You're being paranoid."

"Perhaps." He allowed. He lifted the tent flap and they left the tent they had borrowed. "But right now, I would rather be a little paranoid and alive, then not."

"Good point. I'll just say you're a friend from the Imperial navy I used to work under, and we were both betrayed and considered 'expendable'. It is the truth and he already sees you as a Sith and Sith tend to become officers by default."

"That works. Also can easily explain any association I once had with the Empire if that becomes an issue." Starkiller agreed. So long as his connection with Vader was kept out, and he wasn't Starkiller, it would work.

Starkiller motioned for Jowwarr to return, and the Wookie clambered over to his side. Starkiller found the golden-head Jedi talking to a young lady from the camp. She looked like she lived here and she was very nervous and clearly enamored with them.

Starkiller felt the beginning of his war, his army, laid in this man, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. Starkiller was raised to be powerful and destroy and kill, not to talk and convince people to do things.

He would prefer to have Falon at his mercy with no choice but to submit and join him. It was the natural way of the conqueror to conquer, it was not the natural way of the conqueror to talk, negotiate, and come to an agreement. With Jowwarr, the Wookie was in a difficult position where Starkiller had the advantage. Now, with Falon, Starkiller didn't have an advantage unless he kidnapped the man.

All Starkiller had on his side was Juno's word and the understanding that he had rescued the Jedi from being captured by the Empire. While this counted for something and possibly earned him enough loyalty points to go from enemy to neutral, but ally? Servitude?

There was one card he had to play that could give him an advantage in negotiation.

Falon checked with Juno to see what had happened and Starkiller walked up as they finished the conversation. Juno explained that her and 'Harbinger' went back, but she didn't know it was him until now. She said that he could trust him.

That seemed to help, and Falon loosened up, but he was suspicious of him.

Starkiller walked up to him and Falon asked, "Sith… Harbinger. Whatever you want to call yourself, what is it you want from me? You came all this way just for me, and fought another Sith over me. I get the feeling you are not here to capture me and turn me over, but I can't say for what purpose you would have otherwise."

Straight to business, Starkiller could do that. "I have come to seek an alliance with you."

Falon stared at him a long moment in shock. "Alliance? You are a Sith."

"And that means nothing to me." Starkiller replied. "I don't care if you are a Jedi, fallen Jedi, grey Jedi, Sith, or non-Force user. Jedi, for their wanton proclamation of holiness are criminals for a reason, and Sith, for all of our dedication to 'order' are savages at times. From where I stand, there is little difference."

Falon studied him. He didn't seem to agree, but he didn't argue with it. "That is unusual to hear. Then tell me, what is it you want out of this alliance?"

"As you know, my objective is to destroy the Empire." Starkiller considered his words carefully and decided to show his hand. The man was straight-forward enough, and Starkiller decided to be the same. No need to dance around on pleasantries. "I am assembling an army. Naturally it will start small, and if done properly, it will grow. I don't plan to pull all-or-nothing shots like your master did, but stay a growing annoyance that will, if my plan goes well, eventually turn the Empire on its head. The key players early on will be you and Jedi Master Rahm Kota."

"Sorry to disappoint but my master is dead." Falon replied quickly.

Starkiller smirked. "No. He isn't."

Falon faltered but quickly composed himself. He narrowed his eyes at him and Starkiller waited for the Jedi to put the pieces together. The Jedi didn't give the slightest sign he believed him. "You know my master fell in battle?"

"Yes."

"And you met my master… recently?"

"I know he is alive. Where he is at this moment, I don't know." Starkiller allowed.

Falon studied him closely. "I… believe you. Force bless me, but I do. The mask makes you suspicious, you are of the Dark Side, and you are an enigma that popped out of nowhere recently, but despite all that I sense you are not lying." He closed his eyes and sighed in relief, "My master really is alive."

"He is. And I will be looking for him when I leave. I'll be honest with you, Jedi. I don't need you." Starkiller shrugged. "But you need me, and you will prove to be a powerful…" Starkiller lost the word. What was it? Boon? Alliance member? No that wasn't it.

"Asset?"

"Not quite, but close enough. You will prove to be a powerful asset. And while I don't need you, I do want you to join me. It is your choice."

"Hm…" Falon hummed.

The elevator door opened and the group entered in. Fawworr stood just behind Starkiller, and Juno just stood wherever. Starkiller and Falon looked out the window as the elevator lifted and the mercs minded their own business. Starkiller did not want to continue talking with them in ear-shot, so he handed the Jedi an ear-mic.

"I don't want too many hearing." He explained.

"Mhmm…"

Light poured into the elevator from the outside in rapid shifts as they passed floor after floor, level after level of Nar Shadaa. After a while they saw an open expanse.

"Tell me, Jedi. What do you see?" Starkiller asked.

"I see the masses. An entire population of slaves and ancient history being used as the foundation of a corrupt nation, yet kept down in the darkness unable to see the sun."

"Good answer."

The elevator climbed up to the upper level.

"Tell me Jedi, what do you see?" Starkiller asked again.

"I see palaces, shrines, statues, and skyscrapers in ever increasingly massive proportion where the Hutts show off their glory by the number of slaves and the size of their palace. Wealth and power they stole."

Starkiller nodded. "Wouldn't surprise me if the original Hutts stole technology to begin with rather than making their own."

"Agreed."

"Now look up, and tell me what you see."

Falon looked up. "I see the Imperial space station and a Star Destroyer."

"And you don't see a connection?" Starkiller inquired. "The Imperial presence here is not to change the ways of Nar Shadaa, but to collect on it. You could say 'because they don't want to interfere with the culture' but the Empire destroys culture everywhere it goes and reshapes them as it sees fit. That cannot be why. It is because the Empire supports such the Hutt's hierarchy. I am not a fortune teller. I can't see the future. But I do know what kind of a person the Emperor is, and let me say it now that what you have seen is what will become of every world in the Empire so long as Palpatine is on that throne. He finds sadistic joy in stomping on and torturing his lesser just because they are less than him."

"You make it sound as though you met him." The Jedi said sarcastically.

"… Believe me, Jedi. One encounter is enough to know the kind of man he is."

Falon turned on him sharply, his eyes wide. "You really did meet him!?"

Starkiller nodded. He put his gloved hand on the window and saw the light peel between his fingers. "I don't care about politics. If people want an Empire, they can have one. If people want a republic, a cartel, an alliance, a union, a directorate, whatever… These things are little more than governmental structures. In the hands of a good man, they can achieve greatness; but so long as a man like Palpatine is in power, no government will work." He clenched his fists angrily and envisioned the world burning before him. "When I am done with him, people are free to remake the galaxy as they want. Even a pompous idiot is better than him."

"That is a very vengeful view. It leaves a lot to be desired."

"When people sign up as soldiers, they have their reasons. Juno comes from a long line of soldiers and probably wanted to honor the tradition. Some sign up for the adventure and chance to explore or see new things. Others might sign up for less respectable means, but they all sign up and push the agenda of the people they serve. I don't care what reason people have. That is up to them."

"And with you having no more of an agenda than just to kill and destroy, that will be reflected by your army. Tell me, 'Harbinger', how does that make you any different from a terrorist?"

"The Empire will call me terrorist regardless of whether I am a rebel or terrorist. There is little difference."

"There is a VERY big difference." Falon snapped. "Terrorists inspire terror and seek only to injure innocents. Rebels fight for a cause not based in fear alone and hurting civilians."

"I promise, hurting civilians is not in my plans." Starkiller said. "Whether I am a hero or a villain, I cannot say myself. Many will call me hero, and many will call me villain. I don't mind. My path is before me."

"You don't know whether you are a terrorist or rebel, or a hero or villain… Then give me one good reason I should join you?"

"Your reasons are your own, so rather than a reason… Let me I give you a sign." Starkiller pointed to the Hutt palace in the distance. "Tomorrow, I will achieve three things. I will ensure your escape, bring down the Hutts, and the Empire presence here."

Falon scoffed. "Crazy. First you say you will bring down the Empire, now you say in one day you will achieve three things, the first of which alone we have been unable to do in months! Look around you! The Empire is everywhere and the Star Destroyer in orbit will shoot us down the moment we rise above the surface! It is impossible."

"Then I will give you the impossible." Starkiller turned to Falon. "If I do that, will you join my alliance?"

"Harbinger, if you can just ensure our escape, then I will kiss your feet. As for your alliance…" Falon was silent a good long moment. "I will join you and see how it goes, at least at first. But if I see you to be little more than a terrorist, I'm jumping ship. And I want to stay in command of my men. Understood?"

Starkiller smirked darkly behind the mask. Excellent. "That will not be a problem."

The elevator reached the top floor, and the Jedi used the Force to put the Imperial guards in a daze. The mercs parted ways with them, and Starkiller walked with the Jedi for a distance.

"I am curious." Falon said. "Why do you wear a mask?"

"For your protection, as much as my own." Starkiller said vaguely. "As you suspect, I have met the Emperor. In the same way, he knows me. I have secrets that can turn the galaxy on its head, secrets he will fear. If he finds me… nobody is safe. He will destroy everything in his path to get to me."


	10. S01 Ep10

**Note: As always here are the options to vote on as to what I work on next!**

**#1. In the Path of the Ravager - Episode 15 Part 3**

**#2. Marek of the Rebellion - Chapter 11**

**#3. Diary of Nitheal - entry 2**

**#4. King under Heaven - Chapter 1 (Story I am working on and haven't released. A novelization/slight-AU of the Manga 'Kingdom'.)**

**#5. To the Top - Chapter 1 (Story I am working on and haven't released. A novelization/eventually-AU of Tales from the Borderlands.)**

**let me know via review which you want me to work on next and release. :)**

**Now we get to the ending of the Nar Shadaa arc. I feel the story is starting to get a life of its own and set down roots and proper plots, but as this is a story that will evolve continuously and change in plot with just as much adaptability as the rebels will need to be to face the Empire, I expect it will always be a on-the-edge-of-your-seat kind of ride. :)**

**As anyone who follows this story, or the canon, can expect. Next up is the hunt for Rahm Kota. I don't plan to sit on it much. I want it to be reasonably short arc in finding and recruiting him. A few chapters at most.**

**As for the next arc after that, I am not sure yet. The rebellion will start to take proper organization and planning and starting itself up once they have a real general at the helm. In my mind, despite Starkiller being at the forefront of it all, that's all he can be. He isn't that big of a planner. He is more like a spear. He is dangerous, lethal, and can get the impossible done for them. But he isn't a tactician. **

**In my opinion, this whole chapter is planned by PROXY more than him. PROXY is more likely to pull a plan like this out of its database than for Starkiller to be genius enough to come up with it. Although, in my opinion, Starkiller can also have inventive, original thought and ideas. Stuff most people wouldn't think of, so that might be his gift. If anything, I want Rahm Kota to be the tactician. Or Falon. Otherwise Starkiller just becomes too good and has no flaws.**

**So let's chalk this chapter of brilliance up as a rare moment for Starkiller :P and say he won't be getting too many of these.**

* * *

Justice? Of course war will be for justice! The winner will decide what is justice! - Donquixote Doflamingo

* * *

**-Jowarr-**

**-Streets of Nar Shadaa-**

Jowwarr was unsure what to make of his new master as he followed him through the streets of Nar Shadaa.

Born on Kashyyk, he was kidnapped by the Empire and sold because he was too young at the time to be on their labor force. He was raised to be a gladiator of the Hutts. Every day he was sent with the expectation to die, but he survived on his wits and strength. Unfortunately the final round for him had been nine battles in a row, and fighting nonstop for so many hours had taken its toll, and he lost. He would have lost his life if his enemy deemed it.

Jowwarr had shown mercy on occasion to his defeated enemies, but not often. The losers were often executed by the winners. It was the way things were, and it was what the Hutts enjoyed.

The loss may have ended with his life intact, but that was all. His Hutt Master sent him into a mercenary life to save himself humiliation, and to get rid of the Wookie.

Now he owed his life to the Harbinger…

Jowwarr didn't just give a life-debt to the Harbinger because it was expected as a Wookie, but because he didn't know what else to do. All his life it was from one master to another. Now, he was lost without a master and needed one.

Did he lack ability to think for himself? Possibly. But it also brought clarity and simple purpose. The purpose was also simple: To anticipate his masters wishes and act on them, both the ones anticipated and not.

Now in less than a day of servitude to the Harbinger he had witnessed the man show a great ambition. He proved himself to have skill in defeating a Sith Acolyte with ease and a bunch of mindless infestations, but to meet his ambition?

Jowwarr didn't know which was crazier, the idea of bringing down both the Empire and Cartel on their own backyard of Nar Shadaa in the span of a day or bringing down a power as massive and sheer magnitude as the Empire within his life. Both seemed equally crazy.

Jowwarr asked the Harbinger how he intended to do it, and he had been mum on the subject. The Harbinger was a very mysterious man. Jowwarr didn't even know what race the man was. The Harbinger very likely could have been a robot for all he knew. He didn't see an inch of flesh on him and his voice was filtered through a reflective mask. He was a ball of questions without answers.

What was his real name?

What race was he?

What did he look like?

What was his actual voice?

Where did he come from?

Where did his ambition come from and originate?

What fuels his ambition?

What kind of master was he?

How did he plan to destroy the Empire?

How did he plan to do all he promised today?

One question after another, but the most immediate would have to be the question of just where they were going? Jowwarr had been following Harbinger since they split up with the mercenaries and Jedi and been largely in silent company. The Harbinger offered no explanation or conversation, and short answers to the few questions Jowwarr made.

They went from tram to train to taxi to back alleys and back alleys to elevators and taxis and on and on for one turn after another as though through a maze. Whoever this Harbinger was, he certainly wasn't taking the easy route.

Eventually they entered a run-down hotel and stopped before a door. The Harbinger didn't bother knocking and entered in. Jowwarr closed the door behind them and looked around.

The apartment was a mess. It was filthy. There was an old dirty mattress in the corner, the fridge was still open, and there was some fast food left out. Whoever lived here was a slob.

He was also very dangerous. There was weapons and gear all over the table and floor. As well as chemicals on the kitchen counter. The bathroom door was left open as well as Jowwarr saw the tub had a rocket launcher sitting in it.

"You will find there are no neighbors. I rented out every room on this floor and in the rooms above and below us." The Harbinger said. "We may speak freely."

"Are you wealthy?" Jowwarr wondered. Yet another question. Just how well-funded was he?

"No, but I have my priorities. I've brought in as many bounties as possible in a short time to get supplies and some solitude."

To Jowwarr's surprise, the mysterious man reached into his hooded robes, grabbed his mask, and removed it.

Jowwarr could barely surprise his curiosity, but did not move. It would be presumptuous to look while his master had his back turned. His master might want to keep his back turned, or he might be fine with Jowwarr looking. Jowwarr could not say and hesitated without knowing what his master wanted yet.

His master turned and Jowwarr saw.

The Harbinger was a young human male? He was an older teen or young adult? From his slanky figure, Jowwarr felt it should have been obvious, but he had expected him to at least be in his mid-twenties judging from his serious, quiet, mature demeanor.

With his voice no longer filtered, the Harbinger looked to Jowwarr with his red eyes and smirked. "Your jaw is hanging."

Jowwarr shut his mouth. So this was the Master's voice too.

"You seem surprised."

"I have not seen your face or heard your voice before. You are a mysterious person, hiding behind a mask… You are not what I expected."

"And what did you expect?" The young man asked neutrally.

Jowwarr hesitated, but shrugged. "I wasn't expecting anything. I saw a mask. In the mask I saw myself, and what I heard was a faceless man of great ambition."

"Sometimes the legend is more inspiring than the real thing." The Harbinger acknowledged. He frowned and looked down in thought briefly. "I knew a man like that once."

Yep, the Harbinger was definitely mysterious.

The Harbinger placed his mask on the table. "You will find that is exactly what I am even behind the mask. A faceless man of great and terrible ambition. You may come to think it to mean I'm a legend or a very shallow person. I don't care. I have no real name, only layers upon layers of titles and objectives. The mask is as much my real face as any, but having a 'new face' like this does protect us from my old enemies."

Harbinger looked to Jowwarr. "So if you have questions, you will find a lot of them cannot be answered. Many I won't answer, and many I simply cannot because there is no answer to give. Do you regret swearing yourself to me knowing this?"

"Doesn't matter to me. I didn't make my oath conditional." Jowwarr answered.

Harbinger nodded and mused over that. "Interesting… I will keep that in mind."

"I do have a question, though. Why would you put my oath into question? Do you lack faith in me so soon?"

The Harbinger didn't respond at first, but stared into nothingness. He said neutrally, "It is nothing against you, personally. It is difficult to have faith at all these days…" The Harbinger was silent a long moment and Jowwarr felt there was something profound and deep passing through his thoughts. After a long moment, he blinked and looked up in surprise, remembering himself. "You still stand there? Take off your shields and relax. A friend will be along shortly."

Jowwarr nodded and removed his shields from his forearms. He placed them against the wall and sat down from where he could see both the window and the door. To his mild surprise, Harbinger did much the same in that he also sat where he could face all entrances.

Well, Harbinger had already proven to be a cautious person.

They passed the time in silence until someone knocked on the door. Jowwarr instantly jumped and grabbed both of his shields. "Relax." Harbinger said, "It is a friend." He opened the door and a man walked in. Harbinger closed the door.

Before Jowwarr's very eyes, the man's skin and clothes rippled in the air and changed into that of a robot.

"Your mouth is hanging open again." Harbinger smirked. Jowwarr promptly shut it. "Jowwarr, this is PROXY, my personal droid. PROXY, this is Jowwarr, my knight. PROXY can take on holograms and Jowwarr is nine feet of pure muscled fur. PROXY, how did your mission go?"

"It went well." The droid said. It cocked its head to the side curiously. "Knight? Why did you acquire a Wookie as a knight?"

Harbinger shrugged. "I could have gone with other titles, but it seemed fitting. I saved his life several times over, and in return for finding a cure for his recent wound, he has sworn a life-debt to me."

PROXY looked to the Wookie and back again. "Understood."

Jowwarr placed his shields against the wall again and sat back down. PROXY placed a disc on the table and a holographic image appeared on it. "As you expected, master, the Imperial orbital fortress is in proximity to the Cartel Palace, but it is off. As you can see, the station is not directly overhead, but is rather many miles to the north."

Harbinger studied the map and sighed. "Damnit… That changes things a bit. I had hoped it would be closer. Did you find the Star Destroyer's patrol?"

"Oh, master! It was easy! Seems the Imperial Star Destroyer takes the same route every day!" The holographic image changed to show the planet and the Star Destroyer's route. "It's patrol includes a number of important Cartel locations including the Palace. Judging from the pattern, I believe it to be a show of presence and strength and daily security rather than great need. It also never is too far from the Imperial station."

"Smart enough to not leave it exposed…" Harbinger mused.

"May I make a comment?" Jowwarr asked.

"Speak freely."

"If your plan is to attack the Palace or the Imperial outpost on the surface, and deal real damage, the Star Destroyer will act." The two of them could hardly take on the Palace or Imperial outpost on their own, much less the Star Destroyer. "Its suicide."

"Its fine that the Star Destroyer will respond, but its hardly suicide." Harbinger didn't take his eyes off the hologram. Jowwarr's eyes widened slightly.

Was his young master fearless or just plain stupid? The Star Destroyer is beyond them! The ships are able to decimate and control entire planets! They wipe out armies and bring into subjection entire nations! What was one young Sith and a Wookie compared to that?

"I sense you doubt me, Jowwarr. Speak your mind." Harbinger said, still thinking and studying the holographic map.

"Master, the Star Destroyer is designed to fight armies, nations, planets! What are we in comparison to a ship miles wide and long with many thousands of soldiers, hundreds of fighters, and enough cannon fire to bombard a world? And the Cartel Palace is a fortress! It is designed to withstand riots and rebels! Its every walls is lined in turrets, has hundreds of guards and many of the strongest Bounty Hunters and gangs filling its halls! The Imperial outpost is just next door to it and is just as formidable with stormtroopers and Sith!"

Harbinger looked to Jowwarr. "I understand your fear, and you are right. The Star Destroyer is just that strong, and from what I see, the Palace and Imperial Outpost are also strong enough to be the two most powerful fortresses on Nar Shadaa. They are impenetrable, massive, powerful, and fully equipped to withstand mass-assault."

Harbinger smiled darkly. Chills went down Jowwarr's massive spine at the sight of it. "And that is exactly what I am betting on."

Yep, definitely insane. What crazy ride did he sign up for?

"PROXY." Harbinger said. He told the droid where he had fought with the Sith inquisitor. "Proceed with the plan as before. There are a few things I want changed, but its only on my end. Your part of the plan is slightly changed." With that said, Harbinger wrote onto a piece of paper and handed it to PROXY. "Read it when morning comes."

"Understood." PROXY departed.

Harbinger did the same for Jowwarr. He wrote something on a piece of paper, folded it, and handed it to him. "Read this in the morning after I leave. You will not be joining me." Jowwarr nodded.

Harbinger continued to study the hologram in silence. For the rest of the day they remained in silence. Harbinger paced the room, stood on the balcony, and finally sat for hours on end in pensive thought. This lasted most of the night. Jowwarr felt invisible to him. The man didn't even eat or sleep.

What was this plan Jowwarr would play a part in? Jowwarr remained largely unconcerned. He had, after all, been promised he would not be ignorant of his time to die, and as a former gladiator and slave, he was prepared to die at any time.

But the sight of the piece of paper still taunted him.

Come morning, Harbinger rose and departed.

Jowwarr opened the piece of paper and noted there were multiple pages. The first page said:

_Do not open the second page._

_Your instructions is this: Go to the Cartel Palace as a friend to them and warn the Hutt personally of the Sith Inquisitor's previous betrayal, intentions to take the Jedi from them, and of his death. Then warn them that I am coming to kill them. Wait until fighting starts, then open the second page. _

_For your sake, keep out any involvement you and I have. We don't know each other, and defend the Hutts until further notice._

_Do not die at any cost._

Jowwarr stared at the paper. He read it again, turned it over, and even flipped it upside down. Every angle read the same way.

Defend the Hutts?! Warn them of the Harbinger? Wasn't that COMPLETELY counter-productive?

He sighed, "It seems my new master is truly insane…"

He picked up his shields and departed for the Palace.

**-Falon Grey-**

**-Home-**

Operation 'Cat Adoption' was code word for moving to another location while the Star Destroyer was elsewhere on its usual route. They had gone through many 'Cat Adoption's so far, and he felt this was their last one.

The Empire was breathing down their necks. They wouldn't get another chance to escape.

"As crazy as your friend is, Juno. I hope he succeeds. Otherwise we are all dead…" Falon murmured.

She looked sad, but also hopeful. "He'll be fine."

"How long have you known him exactly?" Falon asked.

"Few years. Served under him once. Didn't expect to be reunited with him by having bodies thrown on me." She chuckled darkly. "That wasn't fun…"

Falon studied her briefly. She was hiding something, but she also wasn't lying.

'She most likely knows who he is, and is playing it close to the chest just as much as he is.' He decided. 'A very dangerous pair.'

But despite knowing how dangerous they were because of their caution, he found he wasn't afraid. Mrs. Eclipse had shown herself to be a caring, trust-worthy woman, and the Harbinger had saved their lives in seeking nothing more than an ally.

He would have to be cautious too, considering their own caution was born of having a foe worthy of caution. Last thing he needed was this 'foe' coming after him.

And judging from Harbinger's words, that enemy was Palpatine.

Falon would need to be extra careful how much he associated himself with this Sith.

Falon opened the door to the shuttle and entered in with Juno. Once he closed the door he pulled out a piece of paper the Harbinger had given him and read it:

_Watch for the impossible. Use it to escape._

The paper included coordinates on where to meet him when they had made their escape.

"Falon?" Kanon inquired casually. "How did it go?"

Falon chuckled. "I have much to tell you, but let's take it in the lounge. I want to have a good view of what's to come."

"Huh?" Kanon raised an eyebrow curiously.

"I'll explain there. Want to join us, Mrs. Eclipse."

"Sure."

"What are we watching for?" Kanon asked. He put his hands behind his head and relaxed.

"Not sure yet, but I expect we will know when we see it." Falon replied.

From the lounge he could see out of the ship where they were docked inconspicually on a dock. They could see for many miles. In the distance was the Cartel Palace, the Imperial Orbital Fortress, and Star Destroyer.

**-Jowwarr-**

**-Jabba's Palace-**

Jowwarr was a Wookie. The reputation of Wookies being strong enough, and sometimes angry enough, to tear men limb from limb was not an exaggeration, and even he was afraid.

He stood before the giant gate of Jabba's Palace. Around him were guns on the door, guns on the walls, guns on the guards, guns on the Imperial Stormtroopers stationed here, and even guns on the guns on the door and walls. There were a lot of guns. Not to mention Cartel tanks and Imperial walkers. The Star Destroyer was in the distance and seemed to be pointed right at him as well. It was actually continuing its usual route, but it was just going over the horizon. It would be a while till it was near.

Jowwarr gulped.

"State your business here!" A gruff pig-man demanded.

"I am here to talk to Jabba. I have information he will want to hear, including information on a threat on his life." Jowwarr responded in a growl.

"Tell me, and I'll relay the information to him."

"No. I will tell him myself."

"Okay, better idea." Yet another gun appeared in the door through a hole at his head. "How about I kill you and let you be on your way?"

Ignoring how stupid that phrase was, Jowwarr remained firm. He didn't raise his shields to defend nor attack. "Do so, and the life of your master, and everyone here, is forfeit. Believe me when I say that what I have to say is worth his attention."

The gun withdrew and Jowwarr waited a long moment in silence. At last the voice on the otherside said, "If you waste Jabba's time, your life is forfeit." The door opened. "Enter at your own risk."

Jowwarr gulped again and entered.

The front courtyard of Jabba's Palace was huge. He counted two whole battalians of Cartel Gangs and Imperial Stormtroopers stationed right on the front doorstep, and at least ten tanks and walkers between them. Massive anti-air turrets stood on the towers along with artillery.

There were also dancers and drugs and other pleasures in the courtyard mingling, but they were not of Jowwarr's immediate notice. He was more worried about the amount of firepower he was walking into.

Be on the Hutt's side for the moment… warn them of the Harbinger, and tell them of what happened on the Tram.

Jowwarr hadn't doubted his oath to the Harbinger until this moment. Now he wondered the wisdom in it, but at the same time he wondered it in a resolute manner as if to say his oath was as much binding and firm as it was potentially foolish.

He more or less signed his own death certificate. The second page was most likely there to let him know he would die. The only difference being this death would be more fun than dying from a diseased scratch on the arm.

The Hutt guide showed Jowwarr to Jabba. Jabba, as Jowwarr expected, was lounging, smoking, watching slave strip dancers and the news and the stock market and multiple sport channels all simultaneously on the holonet, and was surrounded by the biggest bounty hunters money could buy, as well as multiple gang bosses.

There was also a formidable storm trooper presence here, although not near enough to compensate for the Hutt's portion. It was more or less a sign to say 'I'm here too'.

Jowwarr was screwed. There were, at minimum, fifty guns in this room and just as many crazies.

The guide whispered in Jabba's earhole and the giant slug briefly glanced at the Wookie. He said something in Huttese and the guide translated. Not that he needed translating, Jowwarr was fluent in Huttese.

Jabba demanded to know what information 'The Wookie' was bringing.

So Jowwarr did as he was told. He told Jabba everything from his perspective of the situation surrounding Falon Grey.

How they had searched for him, caught up with him, and the Sith had taken advantage of the Hutt's very trap to take their own prey out from under them. Then how his group, the Imperial escort, and the Cartel mercs had entered conflict. Then a person called 'Harbinger' killed the Sith Inquisitor, and said he would be going after Jabba the Hutt next.

Now, as part of pretending to be on the Cartel's side, he twisted it slightly to make the Inquisitor seem more to blame then he already was. Also, in order to save his fur, he made himself out to be sympathetic to the Cartel and merely being a good hired-gun.

And naturally the hired-gun took his job seriously and wanting nothing better than to serve the Cartel, as well as get a little something for himself.

Jabba, to Jowwarr's surprise, to his information seriously and payed him full attention.

Jabba spoke, and the translator unnecessarily said, "Do you have any proof of this?"

Jowwarr paled. No, he didn't.

A voice said behind him, "Well… most of that is right, however you will find my death is highly exaggerated."

Jowwarr felt a chill go down his spine. He recognized that voice… it was impossible!

The Sith Inquisitor entered the room along with a full squad of storm troopers and Sith acolytes.

"You're supposed to be dead!" Jowwarr yelled.

The Sith raised an eyebrow, looked down at his body, and laughed. "I think you need your eyes checked, Wookie."

Jowwarr growled angrily. What was going on? Now he had come here with false truths.

The Wookie looked back at Jabba and noted how aggravated the Hutt looked. But whether that was at himself, or the Sith, he couldn't say.

There was only one way out of this, and that was to choose a side. He wouldn't survive being pinned by both sides. At least by being on a side for the moment, he would be able to escape.

Did Harbinger anticipate this? Is that why he said for Jowwarr to defend the Hutts in the first page?

Jowwarr grit his teeth angrily. Had the Harbinger deceived him? Did he not truly kill the Sith Inquisitor?

No, he didn't. He had lied to Jowwarr and used him and put him in the most dangerous position possible.

Now Jowwarr was alone and needed to get out of here, and get back to the Harbinger. Hopefully he would have an explanation for this. Otherwise, Jowwarr's servitude would be a difficult one.

Jowwarr raised his shields against the Sith. His posture alone would hopefully speak for itself.

Jabba spoke, and the guide said unnecessarily, "What is your purpose here, Imperial? This is Lord Jabba's palace!"

"It's all very simple, Lord Jabba." The inquisitor said. The Stormtroopers spread out across the room. "Your failure to capture the Jedi prompted my presence and you were ordered to step down."

"There was no such order. You speak lies."

The Sith smiled, "Lies? Please, as though you have any right to speak about 'lies', you overgrown slug. You were ordered to step down while I hunted him, but rather than stop, you went behind the Empire's back. If you had succeeded, or helped in the capture, your action might be excusable, but instead you fired on us."

"You expect us to be able to control the actions of every merc we hire? Their actions do not speak for us."

"No, perhaps not. But my actions do speak for the Empire. That is power. That is authority." The Sith Inquisitor ignited a lightsaber on his spinning gyroscope. The Stormtroopers raised their guns. "You are under arrest, Lord Jabba."

If that wasn't enough for the gang-bosses, bounty hunters, and Hutt guards to raise their own guns, axes, and butter knives, nothing would be.

Jabba, though, was unarmed. Part of being a Hutt. He growled angrily and actually raised himself up to his full worm-ish height in an attempt to appear threatening. He pressed a button, and a door opened in the far back of the room behind the Sith Inquisitor. A rancor sat in the next room and looked up curiously. Seeing so many fine morsels to devour, it dropped the bone it was nibbling on and stood. It had an electric chain around its neck holding it in place.

"If you knew what was good for you, Imperial, you would choose your enemy more wisely."

"You will find I have chosen my enemy VERY carefully, Lord Jabba." The Sith ignited the other half of his gyroscope lightsaber and ordered his men to arrest the Hutt.

Jowwarr turned the ray-layer of his shields on, and hunkered behind the cover of his dual-shields as the first volley of laser fire erupted from both sides.

Stormtroopers were deadly shots and managed to kill the majority of the Cartel forces in the room, but due to their lack of tactical sense in standing out in the open, they also took great losses from the first blow.

The next few seconds were a scramble of movement as everyone scattered to find cover. The Inquisitor stood directly in the center of the room blocking laser bolt after laser bolt with a smirk on his face, and Jowwarr slowly backed up. His shields blocked a number of blows, and due to his positioning, he also ended up absorbing blows meant for the Hutt. Jabba barked orders angrily and, after hitting a button, rode an elevator to a lower floor.

The Inquisitor ordered into a mic on his sleeve. "All forces, engage the Cartel! Capture the criminal Hutts and Nar Shadaa in the name of the Emperor! I hold Jabba on grounds of warmongering, attempted murder, attempted assassination, and evading authority!" With one brief smirk he added, "Happy hunting!"

Jowwarr saw a grenade land perilously close, and jumped away. The explosion seared his fur. Raising his head, he saw the Imperials were steadily gaining control of the Palace control room. The rancor was making a complete mess of the Imperial's grunts, but even the grunts were crack shots and rarely missed. The Cartel were managing to use sneaky tactics and all kinds of gear to help even the odds. One Mandalorian bounty hunter sent a volley of weapons one after another into the Imperial masses including grenades, mini-rockets, twin-pistol laser bolts, and even a chemical flamethrower that shot out 25 feet in length and set a half-dozen Imperials aflame in one attack. The Mandalorian used a rocket back-pack and hightailed it out a window.

Outside the window, Jowwarr heard the sound of battle. The battle going on in this room was being carried out all over the Palace grounds! The courtyard had to be intense, with a full platoon of both sides already having been stationed there to begin with.

Remembering the paper, Jowwarr huddled behind cover and hurriedly opened the Harbinger's papers. The first page was the same as before and said to open the second page only after fighting starts.

Another explosion made him lower his head. Dust and ash landed on his back. Fighting had most definitely started!

The second page was as follows:

_Run._

He didn't have to be told twice.

He raised his shields and ran out the nearest door. His shields blocked a ton of fire the moment he exposed himself and once inside the hall he became a running wall. He slammed his shields into anyone in his way. Once he got surrounded and had to resort to actual fighting.

He swiveled one of his shields around. The opposite end of his shields was thin and much narrower than the side he used to hide behind, and he impaled the Imperial into the wall. With the first Imperial having a narrow hole in his torso from his waist up to his clavicle, he was out of the count. Jowwarr snapped his shield out of the wall and cleaved another in half with it. With this patrol removed, he continued his escape. He was a one Wookie stampede.

**-Starkiller-**

**-Jabba's Palace-**

Up above Jabba's Palace, at the very top of one of the palace towers, sat a single Sith. From there, Starkiller observed the fighting ignite between the Cartel and the Empire. He laughed.

"This has gone better than expected." He mused to himself. He expected he would have to insert himself into the fray and make it more explosive while also focusing his attention on the winner to make it more even, but the two sides were remarkably even. The Imperials were far better marksman, but their organized formation exposed their heavier weapons to fire and was destroyed by the Cartel's heavier mix of lasers, fire, and explosives. Meanwhile, the Cartel hid everything they could. They still lost the majority of their infantry due to the stormtrooper's skill, but the tactic of hiding protected their heavier weapons from immediate danger.

At this rate, the Cartel would win just because tanks and heavy weapons outmatch rifles.

Starkiller turned his gaze up toward the primary target: the Star Destroyer.

All of this, the Inquisitor, the Hutts, the manipulated battle, it was all to bring the Star Destroyer. Everything revolved around it. Jabba's Palace had the most anti-air capability on the planet, while the Star Destroyer kept Falon Grey and his team pinned to the ground. Falon might be able to evade the Palace's weaponry just because the turrets were localized to this area alone, but the Star Destroyer brought mobility to the table. Mobility that needed to be removed.

"Come on, PROXY. Call it in!" He tapped his knee nervously.

Everything hanged on a fragile set of lives. PROXY needed to succeed. Jowwarr needed to help light the fire. Starkiller was not used to sitting back and letting others do the main work, he had always gone solo. This was the first time he had a plan to sit back and let others do the work for him.

But it was also important. If he stepped in personally and destroyed the Star Destroyer, odds are he would be on Vader's most wanted list very quickly. If he stepped in and personally caused the Cartel to do his dirty work, then Vader could still follow the breadcrumbs to him and put the pieces together.

One day he would allow himself to take the risk of being exposed to Vader's spies, but not yet. Not yet. Not until he had an army and at least a dozen layers of aliases and decoys to hide behind.

So no, Starkiller needed to let his men do the work.

"Consider it training…" He told himself. He sighed and tried to get the tension out of his legs. He was starting to shake. He wanted to get in and take care of things personally. "You can't do everything yourself… need to let others do things here and there."

The Star Destroyer in the distance continued his lazy route, and Starkiller continued to watch it. He had memorized its route so he would know the moment there was a change.

There… The Star Destroyer changed direction and slowly pointed its nose toward the Palace. It was on its way.

"Good job!" He congratulated PROXY and Jowwarr. The Cartel was too proud to submit to the Empire, and the Empire was corrupt enough to make up reasons for arresting them. The Cartel's so called allegiance thus far had been a lie. Starkiller didn't know politics or law, but he did keep up with current events during his time in Vader's apprenticeship. If Vader wanted him to go to Nar Shadaa, he needed to be able to know where it was and what to expect. If Vader wanted him to raid Tattooine, Starkiller needed to be able to know the situation surrounding it.

Conveniently, Vader did want him to go to Nar Shadaa, so Starkiller did look into the situation surrounding Nar Shadaa already.

If Starkiller was lucky, this incident could spark a war between the Cartel and Empire.

Or… even better. He could ignite one. The Star Destroyer loomed closer, and by his estimations, it was close enough.

Now, he hadn't tried this before. He had seen this in a vision, but despite that he had never… he had never considered doing this before.

The Star Destroyer loomed closer, and Starkiller reached out with the Force.

Just as he saw in his vision, he reached out with the Dark Side. Strands and tentacles of power wrapped themselves around the Star Destroyer. He tightened his hold around it, and pulled down. He pulled, he pulled, and he pulled. He grunted with the effort and pushed himself to his limits of power. His body shimmered in the air, sparks flew off his robes, and the Star Destroyer tilted.

But… it was too much. Starkiller released the hold and fell to his knees gasping for air. Sweat rolled down his face. He had only exerted himself for a minute, but he had pushed everything he had into it and his body was unused to the strain of power he had just put into a single technique. It was literally like he was trying to pull down the vessel with his bare hands, as far as his body was concerned.

"Not good enough…" He growled. "There is no limit to the Force, but there is still a limit in me."

Okay, time for plan B.

Starkiller turned the same power on the palace anti-air turrets and aimed them at the Star Destroyer. Whether the Star Destroyer reacted from the Force power trying to pull it down, or the anti-air turrets suddenly aiming at it, it opened fire on the Palace turret placements, and since its power was explosive, it also ended up hitting a lot of other things too.

The Palace shook under his feet and for a moment Starkiller stumbled.

Having achieved what he set out to do, he ran across the roof and leaped. He soared through the air over the walls and down hundreds of meters before landing. He surrounded himself in the Force and rolled across the ground. The Force absorbed the impact. He brushed himself off and entered the fleeing crowd. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of medicine. He twirled it between his fingers and smiled darkly. He had only succeeded in the beginning of his overall plan to destroy the Empire. He had years of work to go and would most likely face death a hundred times over, but for the moment he would relish in how the first mission had ended.

Victory.

**-Falon Grey-**

**-In a state of shock and awe-**

Falon gaped. Kanon's lolipop fell out of his mouth that he was sucking on. Mrs. Eclipses' pistol, that she had been rubbing down, fell out of her hands and clattered on the ground as she gaped. The whole room was silent and Falon felt everyone was just as stunned as he was, if not more so.

Falon didn't know how, but the Imperial Star Destroyer had opened fire on Jabba's Palace, and the Palace was firing back. The Palace was losing badly, but this was something he never would have expected… ever.

The only reason he had the inkling of an idea that something as grand as this might happen, was because someone said to watch for it. He had no idea what to expect, but this certainly fit into the category of 'impossible'.

Kanon and the others besides Mrs. Eclipse didn't even have the words of a stranger to help them realize what was going on. For them, it was like the world had suddenly gone flat, pizza was now made of chocolate, and stories about pedophile, sparkling stalker vampires were suddenly good!

He did it. The glorious bastard did it!

"By the Force…" Kanon whispered. "Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing…"

"If it is what I think it is, then yes." Falon grinned. The Harbinger did it! "The impossible was handed to us. Kanon! Get on the comms! Tell the others to leave Nar Shadaa immediately! We're using this window to escape!"

Kanon continued to stare at the scene before them, before snapping out of it and rushing out. Falon looked to everyone else, still mesmerized. "Snap to it people! We don't have much time!"

Everyone rushed out of the room except for Mrs. Eclipse. Falon looked to her. He grinned widely. "Did you have any idea our mutual friend was capable of this?"

She looked back at him with wide eyes and slowly shook her head.

"Well, we owe him our lives if we can get out of here. I don't much like the idea of owing a Sith anything, but at this moment, I'd kiss him square on the mouth!" He laughed excitedly. "That glorious bastard actually did it!" His laugh and smile was infectious on her and she grew excited as well.

Hope was an amazing thing. The world didn't seem so dark anymore.

"We're not out of here yet." She reminded him.

"No, we're not. We need to get out of here. I suggest you head to the bridge and see if you can help. I know you aren't offically one of us, but we need everyone on station if we are getting out of here."

She nodded and ran out the door. Other of his men ran past to hurry to their station as well. Alarms went off, and Kanon's voice on the speakers told everyone to get in position.

They were leaving Nar Shadaa.


	11. S01 Ep11

**Note: As always here are the options to vote on as to what I work on next!**

**#1. In the Path of the Ravager - Episode 15 Part 5**

**#2. Marek of the Rebellion - Chapter 12**

**#3. Diary of Nitheal - entry 2**

**#4. King under Heaven - Chapter 1 (Story I am working on and haven't released. A novelization/slight-AU of the Manga 'Kingdom'.)**

**#5. To the Top - Chapter 1 (Story I am working on and haven't released. A novelization/eventually-AU of Tales from the Borderlands.)**

**let me know via review which you want me to work on next and release. :)**

**Even though I consider Nar Shadaa finished, we still need to have a kind of 'epilogue' to the arc to show how things are effected and we need to have our heroes begin looking for Kota.**

**This is a very short chapter because of that. I don't want to jump into the next chapter at the end of this one and leave the next chapter substantiouly shorter. Rather, if a specific set of events are short, just let it be short.**

**I also do not plan on showing how they find Kota. Sorry to disappoint. I looked up the canon (I refuse to acknowledge Disney's bullshit about Starkiller not being canon) and found that Kota's lore from Nar Shadaa to Cloud City would prove incredibly difficult to portay them figuring out. Starkiller and Falon have little in the way of espionage and spies and information gathering beyond a single mole for Falon, and this wouldn't help them find just some blind old man getting on a transport and leaving. Especially with Kota putting effort in hiding. In short, I feel that TRYING to figure it out may only shoot the story in the foot.**

**If you try to do something that you feel is impossible, it comes out that way.**

**If you just leave it up to the imagination and say it happens, it may be a short-cut at times, but it also keeps from shooting your story in the foot as much. **

**So instead the next chapter will be from Kota's point of view up to the point that way say "FOUND HIM!". Because... honestly. I have no clue how Starkiller and Falon are going to find the guy without using visions, which is just a cheap story plot trick. The two simply lack resources, the skills, connections, and organizational skills to pull off the hunt properly. Which is what makes Kota so important. If we had Kota looking for Kota, sure he could do it, but we have two amateurs to this kind of thing. Starkiller is a fighter, not a tactian or espionage and information gathering expert. Falon is just a general leader/Padawan trying to do the best he can to not have his men die on him and help people around him.**

**Not exactly man-hunter material.**

**If anyone can give me a decent idea on how Starkiller/Falon manage to pull off looking for Kota, then yeah, I might make a chapter showing how they did it. But until I get an idea that makes sense, I would rather just say its up to the imagination. Besides, I think showing the events leading up to being found from Kota's point of view is a very strong character development choice. It was my first choice to begin with even before I realized I had no idea how Starkiller could do it without pulling the cheap 'vision' card.**

* * *

_"A real hero doesn't expect to be thanked or even recognized." - Tom Collins_

* * *

**-Palpatine-**

**-Imperial Palace-**

Palpatine, as he did on a daily basis, meditated on the Force from the confines of his throne. He felt the gentle ripples of the universal energy flow. While both Jedi and Sith felt the ripples and recognized the Force as a kind of metaphorical river through time, the Jedi and Sith incorporated it differently. The Jedi gave themselves to the river and let the river refresh and nourish them while the Sith collected the water inside themselves, changed it, shifted it, tamed it to their means. The Force soothed the Jedi and coiled angrily inside the Sith.

Palpatine allowed his many acolytes and Vader to have access to the river, but there was no confusion on who it was that now owned the river. Palpatine felt he could reach out with both hands and encompass the whole ocean of the Force within himself.

He knew it was impossible, he was mortal despite much evidence to the contrary, but he wasn't going to settle for anything less than complete control and ownership of it. If he couldn't hold the whole ocean within himself, he would simply be the only one allowed to control it.

With that in mind, he sent ripples through the Force himself. To a child, it might be like tossing rocks across a lake.

Someone who was trained in the Force enough to recognize the ripple, such as a Master Jedi or Vader, would feel and recognize Palpatine's ripples as a normal thing. The Master's might see it as a taunt and reminder, and Vader as a reminder of his slavery and an annoyance. Vader was very easy to annoy. While Vader came off as neutral to livid to everyone, not many could push his buttons and live to tell about it.

The man had a lot of buttons and Palpatine loved pushing them all. Kept him in line.

Vader should be in the process of tracking some malcontents and sympathizers to the Jedi. The biggest one on Palpatine's list being a few people who were a little too close to the former Mrs. Amidala (or Mrs. Skywalker as the case may be). Palpatine didn't settle for waiting for his enemy to come to him, he searched them out.

The Emperor had a whole team devoted to recording and analyzing every Senate session going back to the Clone Wars.

It was subtle, but there were a few Senators that had a heavy past of moral upstanding that were a little too silent now. He would have to upgrade their surveillance if they kept it up.

To a degree, the Emperor preferred the Senators that spoke openly and honestly. He could put them down with the same openness and honesty. They were compliant easier. The ones he didn't like were good, honest people that were smart enough and wise enough to stay silent in his den of wolves. They were potential enemies.

Palpatine sent another ripple through the Force as he thought idly of who to purge away, only to balk when a ripple responded back.

That… couldn't be right. It had to be a mistake.

Palpatine didn't touch the Force, but watched closely.

Another pulse, larger than before.

Palpatine gnashed his teeth together angrily and examined it closer. It wasn't a mistake. Someone of great power was daring to step into the domain of what was his! The ripple was small enough to tell Palpatine that the person was not a threat, but it was larger than it should be. Periodically he would feel small ripples from his acolytes and the few Jedi who dared touch the Force and incur his wrath, and there would be large ripples wherever Vader went. This was too large to be a mere acolyte, too small to be Vader, and in a different point of the galaxy entirely.

Again, a ripple.

Palpatine couldn't pinpoint where exactly, but it felt distant and was coming from the direction of the Hutt Cartel.

No more ripples.

"How dare they…" He seethed. Palpatine turned his anger into thought and planning and plotting. He wouldn't let his anger and wrath sit uselessly. He would make use of his energy.

Did the Cartel get a Jedi of their own? Was a Jedi Master rising in the Cartel's domain?

Palpatine hit a button and told his attendant to have Lord Vader answer his communication immediately.

Naturally Vader was on the field and couldn't attend to him immediately. He would give Vader half an hour to get his robotic butt in his place so Palpatine could have a little word with him.

There was a Jedi to hunt.

It was while he was in the process of having his attendant get in contact with the 501st that a communication came to Palpatine. It was marked urgent. Palpatine gave it a glance. At first, it was just another notice like any other he ignored and passed on to another. But there was something too… coincidental about it. Something that made it worth noticing.

The Hutts and Empire had a conflict. One of Palpatine's acolytes had started the battle, and while the fighting was localized to only Jabba's men and the Empire, it was spreading across all of Nar Shadaa. The communication then went to encourage the Emperor that the Governor would take care of it. He had a plan in place to turn the other Hutts on Jabba and bring the situation under swift control.

Good solid plan, and on any other occasion Palpatine would put it outside of his mind and just delegate it to someone else. But that ripple… It couldn't be a coincidence.

He would still delegate it, but to someone ruthless enough to ensure it would be done properly.

**-Starkiller-**

**-At the rendezvous location-**

Following the plot of bringing the Cartel and Empire into a skirmish to mix things up and provide an escape, leaving the system was as easy as stealing a ship capable of hyperspace and ripping out the IFF chip so they wouldn't be tracked. Jowwarr had used the injection on himself, as they agreed, and now PROXY was flying them to the rendezvous with Falon Grey.

"You seem irked. Why is that?" Starkiller observed. For the moment he deemed not to wear his mask.

"It is nothing. It will not affect my duty." Jowwarr said neutrally as he continued to polish the wood on his shields.

Starkiller sighed and turned his attention to the window. "If you insist on hiding your thoughts and feelings you will find I won't trust you easily."

Trust was not something he found easy anymore. He could allow people little trusts, such as jobs and understanding within risks, but never with anything that could hurt him or backfire too much. Starkiller expected Jowwarr may not be in the happiest of moods, but if the Wookie would keep his thoughts concealed like this he can't say how the Wookie would respond in the future.

"You question my oath?"

"Stop asking whether I question your oath or not. I'm not dumping you on the street like a child. But it is important to me that I understand your thoughts and know what to expect from you. Otherwise you won't be of much use to me."

Jowwarr hesitated to respond, but by the time he finally decided to, they had left hyperspace.

"Master," Proxy interrupted. "We have entered the rendezvous. I am finding a fighter on our radar."

"IFF?" Starkiller asked. He fingered his mask in his lap.

"The ship is not signaling any affiliations."

"Send a message, ask if they are affiliated with our mutual Jedi friend. Ask for a name for validation."

"Yes, Master." Proxy acknowledged. The droid changed form into a male human officer of the Imperial military and used the person's voice.

Jowwarr said, "What I find troublesome, master, is how I was used and deceived."

"Explain?"

"You used deceit for me to ignite a war between the Cartel and Empire!"

"How did I deceive you?" Starkiller asked simply. "I gave you simple orders to play on the Hutt's side to appear sympathetic and ignite it on their side. I also told you to expect conflict. At no time did I say otherwise that it would be a walk through roses."

"You told me you would tell me when it is my time to die, and yet you threw me into a fierce battle between two super powers."

"And here you are." Starkiller argued. "I haven't forgotten, and I will tell you when it is time. However, this wasn't that time, so why should I tell you to die? Do you have a death wish?"

Jowwarr looked away. "I do not."

"Then stop crying like a baby!" Starkiller reprimanded him harshly. Jowwarr growled but said nothing. "If you that was dangerous, then you have no understand of how deep we will go. That was a conflict between the Cartel and the Empire. It was not a conflict between us and anyone else. The time when it truly becomes dangerous is when they are after us, instead of us slipping in and out of the sidelines and letting the big guys duke it out. When the assassins and Sith and Star Destroyers and full might of the Empire sees us as an enemy, then you will be allowed to cry."

"Master." Proxy prompted.

Jowwarr grit his teeth. "I will not cry!"

"Then don't start now. We've only just begun."

"Master." Proxy prompted again.

"What?"

"The fighter says Falon Grey wants us to follow them to the hideout."

Starkiller nodded in thought. So… they already had a hideout. That would be convenient.

"Follow them." Starkiller agreed.

After Proxy relayed the message, the fighter pilot turned the ship around and entered hyperspace. Proxy followed.

The journey took them from Nar Shadaa space and into Deep Space.

The existence of Deep Space was based on the base principle that space was full of environmental hazards including black holes, asteroid belts, and dangerous nebula in addition to space life including herds of space whales or the massive leviathans.

When you travel at a speed many times faster than light, you tend to be in danger of colliding with objects, and slowing down only does you so much good. Due to this, all over the galaxy are 'roads' where past nations have found a clear path between these dangerous obstacles.

These roads are under constant supervision to ensure safety through the use of military patrols, radar monitoring, and space station checkpoints that act as a refuel station, police/military checkpoint, shuttle rental, and generally a small city.

It is through these roads that shuttle pilots can safely enter hyper-speed and arrive at the next checkpoint with minimal chance of danger.

In addition, the area immediately around various systems are cleared of hazards.

The result is that only a small portion of explored space is cleared of space debris, and the area between roads, where it is full of dangers, is called Deep Space.

Deep Space is mapped and explored and monitored only enough for the Empire, and formerly the Republic, to know the danger presented there. It is this lack of security that makes it a safe haven to criminals, thieves, terrorists, scavengers, gold-diggers, and now, a Jedi and his men.

Generally a civilized placed.

Over the course of two hours they made short hyperspace jumps, turned, changed direction, and made more jumps. On the radar, Starkiller could see them pass between volatile nebula clouds and ship graveyards and other clutter that would have destroyed them on impact. While everything was easily light years apart, it felt like they were inching their way in when you move at many times faster than that.

It would be like trying to fly fifty miles per hour in a gap that is ten feet apart. The only way possible is with short movements and sudden stops.

Eventually the guide brings them to a cluster of asteroids. No scan is necessary. Starkiller can see a landing pad on one of them.

"Land here. Master Jedi Falon Grey is expecting you." The guide says.

"Thank you, private. Your assistance is appreciated." Proxy responds before cutting the connection and smoothly landing on the landing pad. A man with glowing sticks guides them in and a few soldiers run up to them.

Starkiller puts the mask of the Harbinger on and says, "Let's not keep our new friend waiting. Proxy, stay in character."

Proxy's identity, so far as Falon Grey would know him as, was Slavian Aeterna, a former honorary captain in the Imperial military for human psychology. The identity included a story in that Slavian had been assigned from Palpatine to Vader as a kind of joke, and Vader had not appreciated it. Vader had him migrate around the navy before landing him in the Harbinger's lap where he wound up staying.

If Falon delved into Proxy's story, they would admit it was fake, but also reveal it was a cover for his real identity, which would appear to still be a human. Unless Falon used a scanner he wouldn't know Proxy was a robot.

Whether or not Falon figured out the truth about Proxy or not, Starkiller didn't much care. Proxy wouldn't tie him to Vader any more than any other droid would at face value until you delved into its memory. If anything, whether or not Falon would dig into Proxy's story was a test to see how much Falon trusted them.

Starkiller was unsure of how much he could trust Falon, and how much Falon trusted him. It was, to an extent, merely a trust of convenience, of having a mutual enemy for the moment, and perhaps a need. Starkiller did know that Kota was alive. For the moment that was his ace up his sleeve, and he needed to keep that ace in his possession until he got Kota onboard. Then Falon could go to hell for all he cared. (If he didn't, even better.)

Finding Kota was the next step. Everything revolved around that man. Starkiller had no doubt he could do serious damage to the Empire, and he had a few cards in his sleeve that could turn the Empire on its head… but Starkiller was no fool. He recognized the overwhelming power of the Empire.

Starkiller may be able to kill thousands of Imperials, but he couldn't fight thousands of worlds. He might be able to get as far as Vader, but he would be so exhausted from fighting an nearly endless army that he wouldn't stand a chance. Vader was his superior as one man and had the reach of hundreds of Star Destroyers at his disposal to add to it.

And Starkiller was not an army man. He couldn't wrap his head around the concept of a team. He knew how to follow orders and reverse role to give a few, but an army was much more than that. Starkiller couldn't even begin to grasp the scale, the complexity, the responsibility and understanding and insight. It made him recognize further how weak he was compared to Vader, because while Vader was more powerful than him and more ruthless and cold, he was also more brilliant. Vader was the 'general' of the most powerful battalion in the Empire, the 501st. It was not just due to the 501st's skill that they were the greatest, but because of Vader's skill as a general and leader.

Compared to Vader… Starkiller was a child.

The guide landed his fighter parallel to them and left his ship. It was an old Clone-Wars era A-Wing. The soldiers asked for him to hand over his weapons, and he allowed it. Starkiller handed over his lightsabers. "Do as they say." He ordered. Jowwarr reluctantly dropped his shields and Proxy handed over a pistol. The guide walked up to them and guided them into the complex.

The base itself was a bunker built into the inside of the asteroid with a landing pad on the outside. Starkiller observed the layout as they walked. The base was outfitted with a number of old fighters, six transports, a large turret, and a bunker. The place was very old. Dust was everywhere, broken parts, and a whole pile of offline confederacy droids. Starkiller's boots crunched on empty magazines and shrapnel. The concrete was full of holes and plasma burns.

The entrance to the bunker was a garage door that lifted up. Behind it were was empty space for whatever reason dictated, and a set of stairs heading down in the far back. They walked down the stairs into the depths of the base.

The inside was abuzz with activity. Men and women working and attending to business. The place looked like nobody had been there in a long time. The lights were finicky and the walls were either rock or rusted metal or exposed wiring with sparks. A series of blast doors lined their path. The first few were locked open, one couldn't decide if it was supposed to be open or closed, and the last one was locked shut. The guide called for a few to come and pry the door open manually, but Starkiller just gestured with his hand and it slammed open.

"Heh, Falon did the same thing." The guide commented.

Through the blast door they entered a catwalk. Starkiller noted a number of anti-infantry turrets on the ceiling around them, only one of which worked. Below them was a very large room. An AT-TE tank, a relic of the Clone Wars, sat in the corner covered in dust and rust. It was outfitted with a giant ray cannon rather than the normal one and was too small to hold troops in its belly. It seemed to be designed to be a mobile anti-space turret more than a troop transport.

Despite the presence of the decaying relic the room was abuzz with activity of its own in the form of chatter, a group of children laughing and running around, a juke box hanging from the rafters playing cheesy classics, a couple of television screens relaying holonet news, a make-shift bar serving a few drinks, and lines and lines of tables and benches filling half the room into a cafeteria. There were a set of windows on the wall showing a line of food down the line for the men to pick up what they wanted.

Starkiller looked on it all in wonder. He had never seen the like.

He felt little need to socialize or act like them, but it was a new thing to him to see. He looked on it with all the curiosity of watching insects scurrying across the deck of the Executioner. They simply didn't matter, until his eyes landed on Juno Eclipse playing with some of the kids, namely one excitable little girl and a boy in a wheelchair. Juno didn't participate as much as offer bright smiles that lit the room and give them her attention.

Nice to see she was happy here. He wasn't sure why, but it warmed him. His lips quirked and… just maybe… he had the barest hint of a smile.

The smile immediately disappeared as they crossed the catwalk and into the next room where Falon Grey stood before a projector showing the immediate area in a three-dimensional map of this corner of the galaxy.

Time to find Kota.


	12. S01 Ep12

**Note: Here we go. This chapter is entirely from Rahm Kota's point of view. Hope I developed him well. I want him to be a complete opposite in many ways to the Harbinger's personality. Starkiller is dead-serious and Kota is very very relaxed in his pace. I want Kota to take things seriously, but at his own pace.**

**I also see Kota at this stage as being like a lot of other war veterans I've seen that have returned from war. Esspecially ones with PTSD, survivor's guilt, and other traumas that bring them down to an all-time-low.**

**So yeah, let me know what you think of my portrayal of Kota and how I redid the canon meeting they have.**

**As I am taking a small break from In the Path of the Ravager, I think the next chapter I do will be from the following choices:**

**#1. Marek of the Rebellion - Chapter 13**

**#2. Diary of Nitheal - entry 2**

**#3. Song of Power - Chapter 1 (Story I am working on and haven't released. An AU of Legend of Zelda before Ocarina of Time with the main character being Ganondorf.)**

**#4. To the Top - Chapter 1 (Story I am working on and haven't released. A novelization/eventually-AU of Tales from the Borderlands.)**

**let me know via review which you want me to work on next and release. :)**

* * *

Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody, I think that is a much greater hunger, a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat. - Mother Teresa

* * *

**-Rahm Kota-**

**-Some bar in Nar Shadaa-**

Rahm Kota could trace his history from one war and battle to the next. He was born on an industrial planet in civil war. He was lifting guns when he first learned how to walk. He lead men to battle as a pre-teen.

At the age of eighteen he was recruited by none other than Mace Windu to be a Jedi, and spent every day of his life as a Jedi outside of the temple going from one fox-hole to the next. He brought peace to planets in civil war, but he never did it by being clean and pristine, he did it by being in the dirt and grime and being just as much covered in blood and suffering as much as everyone else.

By the Clone Wars, he had a fair number of soldiers loyal to him that he called on in the name of the Republic, and just as before, he was in war. He slowly changed from being the first on the scene, to being the one who organized the men in doing it for him. He learned how to become the man who took the pin off the board rather than the man who put his hands on a guy's bleeding chest and struggle to keep him alive.

In battle he gained more comrades and friends and brothers than he could name, and he lost just as many.

He survived battles and wounds that would kill greater men, he held the hands of dieing men, and he had little choice but to send his friends in to battles where he knew he was sending them to their graves in mass… because it would bring victory and they knew that. And that is what they signed up to do as good soldiers.

So it was infuriating, nay! An outrage! For his own Republic to turn on him and his men. He survived Order 66 because of the loyalty of his men, a band gathered from across many systems, and he felt their pain as much as his own. They were marked as traitors merely for living.

His fight with the Empire was a foolish one, but he had enough. Enough of the pain. Enough of the hiding. Enough of being called a traitor and knowing that every death he was forced to handle for so long had been spit on. Enough of knowing that his men, who were willing to give their very lives for the Republic, were criminals in the eyes of the Republic's new public face.

Years of frustration had built up until he couldn't take it anymore, and he threw everything on the line. It was a gamble. The Empire was too big. But he thought, maybe… just maybe if he could bring the Empire's Sith champion out and defeat him… it would mean something. It would bring justice to all the Jedi that monster had murdered, the children and elderly. The worlds he burned.

Kota had no intention of surviving. He was old. He was tired. He was ragged and worn thin. He had spent his entire life giving and giving and giving of himself, blood, soul, and courage, until he had almost nothing left for himself to keep. He felt wrung dry of blood. He couldn't recall a single truly peaceful time in his life. Only blood and death and war.

In some ways, perhaps he was just giving up. Giving up on living, on trying to hold out and see if anything might change on its own, on hoping. Or maybe it was a desperate gamble to hold on to those very things as it fell through his fingers.

To his surprise, it was a Sith teenager that confronted him and defeated him.

The duel broke him. Kota threw everything he had at the young Sith, but was soundly defeated. All of his frustration, his determination… none of it mattered. It all became as nothing as he was held up by his neck by the Force, and was flung out a hole in the window out into the Nar Shadaa orbit to free-fall.

From there the details became blurry to him. He landed on a transport after falling for a few hundred meters. The Force kept him from being injured in his fall, but he was already broken. Broken in body, broken in soul. The pilot he had coincidentally landed on helped him to a medic, but beyond his critical injuries there was nothing to be done for him. Kota had suffered a greater wound than just being bashed around.

He had been utterly defeated by a young man. He had grown old. He was blind. What's more… he couldn't feel the Force anymore. He felt utterly alone in the universe. Guilty of taking his men into a slaughter by a Sith child, unloved by the Force, shamed by the Empire, and forgotten and unwanted by the Republic that no longer existed.

In his destroyed state of mind he even forgot his Padawan was in the system. Kota fell into a depression that took him from begging on the street to bars and back again. Over the course of weeks he grew thin and sickly. What little access he did have to the Force kept him from decaying too badly, but he was no longer the strong general he was before. He used an oily rag to cover his burned eyes and took no effort in caring for his body. He didn't care for himself, so why bother taking care of himself?

He all but gave up and just wanted to die a nobody, like so many other forgotten war veterans that don't know how to function in society and find themselves on the street.

In fact, it was with that very thought in mind that he made a toast one day while drinking. "To all you war buddies who returned home and became nothing. I failed to die with you in battle, so might as well die with you after battle." Without further prompting he shoved the whole glass down his throat in two gulps. It was so strong he nearly had to shove his fist through the wall to get it down.

And someone sat at his table. This annoyed Kota. He had spent what little he had been given that day in begging JUST so that he could have a table to himself to drink and pass out on.

"Whoever you are, get lost! I have this… table." Kota tapped the table for emphasis.

"You have no idea how much it pains me to see you like this." His counterpart said with genuine pity.

Kota scrunched his brow in thought. He recognized the voice. It was slow, methodical, well-spoken, and genuine with emotion. It also sounded familiar. Kota took a solid minute to remember between the drunken haze and perhaps starting to become senile.

"Bail Organa." He replied neutrally. "What a pleasure meeting you here… at a garbage dump. Care to share a drink with me? Or perhaps buy me one? You'll have to buy, of course. I'm a bit short these days."

He could practically hear the man try to paste a fake smile on his face. "No, sorry. I appreciate the offer, but I think you have had a fair share today as it is. You are having trouble staying upright."

"I'm not the one having trouble staying upright, it's the world that's having trouble. I'm completely straight." Kota denied.

"What I really have come to you for is to ask for your help, but I am not so sure if you are in the condition to do it anymore… or even remember me in the morning."

"Depends on the help. If you want to help me get to the bottom of this glass, I will happily help you to the next one."

"It's a bit of a long story." Organa said gravely. "How about you come sleep on my ship tonight? You look like you have been sleeping on the street for weeks."

"And you would be right. I've been shleeping on the weeks for shtreet." Kota started to slur.

Feeling the need for sleep pressing, and managing enough brain cells to consider the benefits of a genuine bed over the convenience of a table top immediately at his disposal… he eventually decided the bed might be better. Kota struggled to his feet, but the world kept spinning. Who told Nar Shadaa it could spin this fast?

Organa helped him stand straight and guided him out of the bar. "Your place or mine, honey?" Kota asked, managing to not slur too badly.

Organa chuckled. "You're not that cute. Come on."

The next part was a fuzzy mess where the next thing Kota knew he was waking up in a comfy mattress with drool pouring from his lips, imaginary cotton balls in his mouth, and a hum that was gentle and at the same time was trying to penetrate his brain through his ears with a never ending echo. It was like his head was in a wind-tunnel! Not to mention how his forehead wanted to explode outward.

He groaned painfully. Just hearing himself groan was painful. "Well, one good thing about being blind… I don't have to see!" The idea of seeing the sun or lights in the room was not a pleasant one.

Now… just where was he? He definitely wasn't on the street… oh yeah! He was on a ship. Bail Organa had run into him last night. What a coincidence!

"Like hell it was a coincidence…" Kota muttered. The bastard had looked for him specifically and tracked him to that bar!

Kota was going to get some answers out of him if it was the last thing his hungover self could do!

Kota struggled to his feet, swayed, and managed to find the door way, door pad, and hit said door pad to open said door way. First mission accomplished.

Second mission, make it down the hall… and figure out if it's the right direction while he's at it.

Kota managed to limp and sway and nearly trip over his own bare feet as he walked down the hall and kept one hand on the wall.

He heard the recognizable snappy salute of soldiers with the usual 'General' statement. Kota instinctively responded in kind, but all he could manage was slapping himself in the face.

"Would you like some help, General?"

"No one calls me General anymore, boy." Kota whispered. He put his free hand on his head to try to keep it from exploding. "And be quiet before you raise the freakin' dead! Now… where can I find Baila Organic… I mean Bailic Organa… I mean… screw it. Where can I find the old bastard?"

"Uh, General. He is back the other way, with his room right next to yours."

"Of course, it is…" Kota muttered sarcastically. He wasn't surprised. Another small victory for fate screwing around with him. Kota stumbled his way back and entered without bothering to knock. At least not physically. "Knock knock."

Kota heard the squeaking of a chair from the other side of the room. "What are you doing here?"

"Good question. What AM I doing here?" Kota asked.

Kota searched around with his hands until he came across a bunk on the wall. He sat on it and faced where the voice was coming from. Only… Kota kept swaying and decided to just let artificial gravity take over. He fell backwards on the bed.

"You were drunk and needed a place to sleep without being mugged." Organa explained.

"That justifies an apartment, not your own ship."

"Yeah, it kind of does."

"Not when the ship is flying. That's kidnapping. I may have been stoned, and my head feels like its slowly exploding, but I know enough about law to be able to say that if I don't want to go somewhere and am taken anyway, that's pretty much kidnapping. So, again, what am I doing here?"

Bale Organa sighed. "Kota… Times are changing."

"Tell me something I don't know." Kota struggled to sit up. His back hurt and his head was pounding.

"It isn't safe for you anymore! Not here, not anywhere. The Jedi are being hunted to extinction. I tried finding Shaak Ti and she was dead. I tried Ashoka Tano and came up empty. Yoda is in exile, refuses to communicate with me."

"You could always try Obi-Wan. He was a regular hero back in the day." Kota argued harshly.

"For the sake of a child, he is the only one I am not looking for at all."

Kota raised an eyebrow despite being blind. "A child? Whatever. Don't care. What does this have to do with me?"

"My point is, the Jedi are being hunted."

"No, you have one dead Jedi, two in hiding, and fourth you can't be bothered looking for because the life of a child is more important than your agenda. Not saying it is or isn't, but that is a choice you made and seem content to live by."

Organa sighed again. "Why are you being such a hardass?"

"Because you aren't getting to the damn point. You're being a typical politician trying to butter me up and I'm being the typical general wanting the answer upfront. If you want to waste my time talking, go ahead. But I would prefer you just getting to the point."

"…"

Or, they could just sit in silence. Kota didn't like it, but there were few things that aggravated him as much as politicians.

"I need you for a mission." Organa finally said.

"Yes, you said that back at the-"

"It's my daughter."

Kota stopped. He may be suffering from a hangover, and generally be upset with his old friend for kidnapping him, but he wasn't going to give him a hard time if it was about his little girl. "Leia?"

…

"Are you nodding?" Kota asked. Jackass. Kota was blind! He can't see nodding!

"Right, sorry. Yes, it's Leia. She is being held hostage on Kashyyyk by the Empire."

Kota leaned forward onto his knees and thought about it. He knew Organa's position in the Senate was a difficult one. While Coruscant was the literal center of the galaxy, Alderaan was the Republic's heart and soul. It was from Alderaan where the constitution and law came from for the whole of the Republic.

It was a difficult position for Organa to play the part as the Republic's heart when the Empire didn't want a heart.

"Is her hostage situation obvious?" Kota inquired.

Organa shook his head. "No. So far as the public are concerned, she is helping oversee the quelling of the Wookie rebelling tribes. But anyone involved knows what is really happening. She is being assigned there, against her will, for so long as I oppose the Emperor."

"And let me guess… if you do continue to be a naughty little Senator, then she will unfortunately find herself at the end of a Wookie uprising."

"Exactly. You understand my position."

Submit.

Or she dies.

It wouldn't surprise Kota if Palpatine even goes so far as to make up a story that the Wookies listened to Organa, were inspired by the morals he expressed, and rose up to kill his daughter because of it.

Kota hated this… "I'm sorry."

"Thank you… but I'm sure if we-"

"No." Kota stopped him. "As in… I'm sorry. You have the wrong person."

They fell into tense silence for a long moment. Organa said, "I see."

Kota said sympathetically, "If you had come to me before, I would have jumped on the chance to do it. But… I'm not the same man I was."

"I know that now." Organa whispered.

"I'm pathetic." Kota said flatly. "I'm a failure."

"No you're-"

"Don't start. I know what the definition of failure is. I know. I know the Jedi are in hiding and we are behind hunted to the last man. I know my men have been deemed traitors for not killing me. I had enough and tried to fact back, and I failed. I lost every man who followed me in, I lost my eyes, I've fallen into drinking, and for some reason, the Force is not answering me. That's the very definition of failure. I'm dead… now I'm just waiting for my body to catch up with it."

Kota stood up before Organa could argue otherwise. Kota wasn't into self-pity or was pessimistic, but in his mind he was facing simple reality. His time was over. He led his men to their death and his own deity had abandoned him.

And when your god abandons you… is there a point in living?

Kota left the cabin and returned to his room. He no longer cared if he was kidnapped. He said his piece and no longer had the energy to care. The Senator would do with him as he pleased.

To his surprise, a few hours later, the Senator landed the transport and helped Kota out. He took Kota's hand and shoved a credit chip into it.

"What's this?" Kota asked.

"It's some credits. I know you may not like charity, but let me at least do this much, old friend. I recharge the chip on a daily basis with a small amount, up to a limit. It should get you an apartment and some groceries to survive on. It should help make your life… a comfortable one."

Kota fumbled with the chip in his hand a bit and thought about it. Organa was right, it hurt Kota's pride to have charity, but then he wondered, 'What is the point of pride anymore?'

"Thank you." Kota put it in his pocket.

"Just do me a favor and don't blow it ALL on drinks, will you?"

"I can't make any promises." Kota smirked.

Kota heard Organa turn around and start to walk away, then stop. "Kota, I know the Republic is gone, but thank you. Thank you for serving. I don't think near enough people understand it enough to appreciate all you've done."

Kota frowned slightly, but gave a crappy salute anyway as Organa left, the transport door closed, and the shuttle lifted off.

"Yeah, well." Kota grumbled. "Bit late now ain't it? Thanks anyway… Now where the hell did he drop me off?"

Kota managed to figure out the place Organa had to dump him was on, and then couldn't help but wonder at the Senator's stupidity. It was a gas planet. The city hovered miles in the air above what little earth-matter there was! It was a walking death-trap for a blind man!

Kota stumbled as best he could until he found someone to help him. He tensed when the person turned out to be a stormtrooper, but so long as he didn't make waves, the soldier seemed to think he was an everyday blind man. The Imperial, relucantly, helped guide him to the inner city where he would be safer, and for the longest moment it turned out to being one of the most awkward moments of Kota's life.

If only the Imperial had the slightest idea just who Kota was.

Yeah, well… there was also a saying in the army. 'If things were different, could we have been friends?'

"Thanks, kiddo." Kota thanked the soldier, who hesitated in surprise at being thanked for doing his job. The soldier appreciated it and walked back to his patrol. Kota adjusted his shoulders. "That was the most awkward half-hour of my life…"

Kota found an apartment, rented it, hired a helper to get him around and buy basic groceries, then found the nearest bar. The bar was cheap, noisy, and now his home away from home. As far as Kota was concerned, if he was going to die, might as well be drunk in a cheap-ass, noisy, smelly bar.

The days passed endlessly and still Kota didn't die. He probably should have tried harder in hindsight. He didn't starve himself and kept away from where he was told there was an opening in the floor to a couple-mile drop.

But it was during another drinking session that he found himself rudely interrupted. There he was, minding his own business, passed out on the table, when suddenly the table was knocking up into his face.

Kota jumped in his chair, grabbed the bottle before it spilled, and barked, "Hhey! Hey hey hey. Can't a blind cripple sleep in peace?! I paid for this damn table! So whoever you are get lost. Unless you want to drink with me, then give me whatever it is and then get lost!" Kota started to put his head back on the table. "Or just get lost anyway… too tired to put up with bullshit."

"Disgusting…" A filtered voice replied from the other side of the table. Judging from movement around them, there were between three and five people in their immediate vicinity.

Kota sighed and leaned back on the chair. "I don't know who the hell you people think you are, but I ain't broken any laws. If you are looking to rob me, then the most you will get is the clothes on my back. I ain't got a credit on me." His credit chip was back at the apartment.

"That's not why I'm here." the filtered voice replied. Whoever the voice belonged to pulled up a chair and sat down opposite of Kota.

"Oh, sure. Sit right down. Why don't you join me?" Kota replied sarcastically. "I've only dismissed you half-a-dozen times."

"You know you are hard to track? I've looked for you from Nar Shadaa to Ziost. Even tried looking for you on Nal Hutta on a hunch. Only it turns out, you're on Bespin in some cheap bar."

Ziost is a pretty far distance from Nar Shadaa. These people were serious. "And just who the hell are you? Bounty hunter?" Kota demanded.

"Not exactly, but I think we can help each other out, Jedi."

So… these people knew who he was. That complicated things.

Kota still couldn't be bothered to care. "I'm no Jedi anymore, robo-boy. Not since… this." Kota motioned to the cloth covering his eyes. Kota felt thirsty and tossed back his drink.

"I'm not interested in your eyes, just your mind and everything you know about leading an army and fighting the Empire."

Kota immediately spit the drink across the table and laughed loudly.

This stranger?! Fight the Empire!? Kota laughed insanely loud to the point it would have drawn attention if it wasn't for the fact that the bar was so loud no one could hear them anyway.

Kota continued laughing until his gut hurt, he started crying underneath his eye-cloth, and he nearly fell off his chair. One of the stranger's companions helped him from falling off.

"Fight the Empire?!" Kota asked in amazement.

Kota struggled to breathe again, but just thinking of the ridiculousness of what the man said only made him burst out in renewed laughter again. He beat his fist into the table till his glass fell and the table wobbled.

Kota was a former general, one of the best in the Republic, and he was NOTHING compared to the Empire! He was put down by a BOY!

What chance did this stranger think he had?! There wasn't a chance in HELL of the stranger even making a DENT in the Empire! All he was doing was throwing his life away and the lives of anyone that followed him.

And the sheer fact that the shoe was on the other foot made this infinitely hilarious. A third time Kota managed to catch his breath only to find himself bursting out in laughter a third time. He truly seemed drunken in laughter, but it wasn't the drink that made him laugh, it was the stupidity. He was drunken on stupidity!

After a long moment Kota managed to force himself to stop laughing, but chuckles still escaped him. "Whew… that was good. You… haha, you are a VERY funny man. Bravo." Kota clapped. "Bravo. That laugh was worth waking me up for."

"I am serious." The filtered voice said in growing aggravation.

"Oh, well that makes things different. Then you're stupid. Nobody fights the Empire and WINS robo-boy! The Empire's army is infinite!"

"Yes, it is."

"And you think you can win?"

"Yes."

Kota scoffed. "Okay. So. Then let's start from the top. Do you represent a rival nation?"

"No."

"Do you represent an army?"

"Yes."

Okay. That was interesting.

"How large?" Kota asked. Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? One thousand?

"Four. You, me, a Wookie, and my droid."

Four.

"Right, so a walking-rug, a tin-can, a blind man, and a fool, against the Empire. And you don't think this is crazy?"

The Wookie growled in his throat, but Kota didn't care.

"No." The filtered-voice man answered.

"Then you're stupid." Kota repeated. "Now get lost before your stupidity rubs off on me."

"I'm not leaving without you, Jedi. You are essential in my plans."

"The only way you're taking me is if you kidnap me." Kota replied heatedly. "But get in line first, you're not the first one to do it."

"I would rather have you willingly, if you will listen to my proposal first rather than continue to shoot me down, perhaps we can come to an arrangement."

Kota sighed deeply. The man was stressing him and refusing to go away! "Fine! Say whatever the hell it is you want to say. Then I can do the polite thing and shoot you down when you're done rather than before."

"First of all, I am not asking you to put yourself on the front lines. I am not foolish enough to put a blind man on the line, and especially one as important as you. I am offering you a position on my cabinet as a personal advisor to me, and if you become interested down the road, High Admiral of the army I am forming."

"You better be thankful no one can hear us around here as loud as it is." Kota chastised him.

"Second, I already have one ally. I'm sure you are familiar with him. Falon Grey."

Kota flinched visibly. He had left Falon Grey and all the men he didn't take with him to the station on a suicide run back on Nar Shadaa. He hadn't even thought of his old pupil since his defeat.

Grey was probably worried about him.

And this stranger managed to bag Falon as an ally? Falon was not a pacifist, but he was the last one Kota would have thought would be siding with a warmonger.

"Are you telling me the truth, boy?" Kota asked, now completely sober. The shock of what he heard drew his attention. He would search out the stranger's heart in the Force, but he was cut off from the Force.

"I can ask for him to come here if it helps. He is on his way from another part of Bespin. We split up to find you, and I found you first."

"… No. I may be as crazy as you, but I get the sense that you are telling the truth."

"Good. Now, there is a third reason I think you should hear… I'm not some fool who can't back up anything he says. I'm the one who caused the battle at Jabba's Palace."

Kota snapped his attention towards the voice in shock. This stranger did that? Even drunk, Kota heard about the event. It was the hottest news on the Imperial holonet lately.

"No, Jabba committed crimes and was placed under arrest. You didn't do anything."

"I realize I have no proof to offer, but I did cause it. I put both sides in a position to fight. Last I heard, there are still skirmishes all across Nar Shadaa."

Kota sat in silence a long moment.

It was small, very small. Little more than an annoyance really. But the event of Nar Shadaa was large enough to draw the Empire's attention and be put on the holonet. The holonet may be the most Palpatine-filtered piece of crap this side of Coruscant, but some events were just too large to be covered up. Rumor and truth leaked out through other channels. It was especially odd when the rumors were identical to what the Imperial holonet said. That was very rare.

And if anything was large enough to draw the Empire's attention, it had to be big. Bigger than what Kota did. His assault on the Imperial space station didn't even receive mention on the holonet.

This guy… he may be a fool, but he was a fool who could back it up. At least a little bit.

Kota sighed again. "You're after the wrong Jedi, robo-boy. I'm dead. No Force, no men, only ghosts. My body is just taking a while to catch up with reality and die. Go find another."

"No. I need you, not another Jedi." The filtered-voice said. "You told me my destiny had you in it when I took your eyes. I still believe that."

Kota looked up (so to speak) towards the man's face and was again in shock. So… this guy was the very boy that took his eyes? The assassin of Darth Vader?

In the battle between Kota and the boy, Kota had looked into the Force and saw that he was part of the boy's destiny… and that there was hope in the boy. A small hope, but hope none of the less.

It had shocked him at the time, but now returned tenfold. He was literally being slapped in the face with his own vision.

"You. It was you."

"I am taking a big risk revealing it, but I need you fully onboard with this."

Kota sat in silence, contemplating everything.

The vision was true. There was hope. A small hope, but it was there. And it was before him now to take up.

But… he had failed. He was without the Force and had lead his men to their deaths.

But Falon had followed this man in finding him…

"I presume Falon doesn't know you blinded me?" Kota asked.

"No. I don't want him to know."

"You are asking me to lie?" Kota asked.

"Yes, but I prefer to think of it more as unnecessary. He has no need to know. That is between you and me. Adding him to the mix would complicate it."

Kota frowned. He didn't like it. "And if he asks directly?"

"Then…" The boy sighed behind his voice filter. "Do what you think is best.

Kota thought about that a moment, and nodded. That was reasonable. That particular piece of drama was between the boy and him. It didn't involve Falon, but Kota also didn't plan on keeping it a secret from Falon. If Falon got close to the truth or asked more directly… then Kota would just go with his gut. He wouldn't lie, but it would be dangerous for Falon to get on the bad side of this boy.

Till then, it didn't matter.

"Then why did Falon choose to follow you?" Kota asked.

"We are allies. I saved him from a Sith trap and used the Hutt/Empire conflict as a distraction to get him out of Nar Shadaa and prove how serious I am. He also has an interest in finding you." The boy said. "And so we have. As for what loyalty I can expect from him in the future, I speculate, is directly linked to you and how much he appreciates me saving his life on multiple occasions."

Kota felt uplifted. He had been amusing the conversation up till recently, but to hear his Padawan had not abandoned him…

Kota wasn't completely alone. He was a bit of a fool to have forgotten that.

Kota straightened in his seat, "If it is your intention to take my old pupil to his death, then let me ask you this. How dedicated are you to fighting the Empire?"

"I will bring down the Emperor and his pets or die trying." The man said with great resolve.

Kota measured the man's words and resolve in his mind, and found the man truly meant them. He was committing his life to the cause. It sounded personal, but it was a cause none of the less.

"Advisor, huh?" Kota scrunched his brow in thought. His mind felt sluggish and fogged. He was as sober as he was going to be right now, but he was still semi-drunk. "Would I be allowed to jump ship if I don't like the party and not have lasers on my head?"

"Yes. If you don't like my army, you can walk away at any time. But I greatly doubt you will dislike it, as much control as I will be giving you in its creation."

Kota raised an eyebrow. "Exactly how much freedom?"

"All of it, just short of me. I know nothing about how to run an army, so as long as the army does what I need it to do, I don't care."

Kota, again, was shocked into silence. Complete control over the Sith boy's army? Kota asked, "So if I say we don't hurt civilians…"

"We won't touch them." The filtered-voice replied. "We'll fight with pillows if we have to. So long as we can win with pillows."

Kota thought about it further. "Do I get to decide what principles the army has? What rules we go by?"

The filtered-voice growled slightly. "You're pushing it, but yes. So long as I agree to them. I promise to be as open as possible. What I care about is results. How we get them… I leave mostly to you. However, I do have some requirements."

Kota nodded. "Such as?"

"My identity has to be top-secret. If anyone, and I mean** anyone** were to link me to you on that space station where we met, it will bring the entirety of the Empire's might down on our heads."

"Your identity is that big?"

"Let's just say Palpatine and Vader will devote their full attention to us the moment either of them knows who I am. We will have no less than a thousand Star Destroyers on our tails within a day, as the first wave alone."

That got Kota's attention. This guy was more and more sounding like a serious player. If he was dangerous enough to be given Palpatine's full attention, he was a very dangerous man. Dangerous enough to hurt the Empire badly.

Also dangerous enough to be like playing with dynamite.

"What identity do you prefer then?" Kota asked.

"I am Harbinger, I'm a former Sith of the Empire, and this is the first time we've met."

Kota nodded. "Works for me. I never got your name to begin with, boy. So I don't know what else to call you… So… your advisor… hmm…"

"You will be in my inner circle. Even closer than Falon. Falon is an ally. You are the advisor of my army."

Kota tapped his fingers on the desk and thought about it a long moment. The idea of being an advisor was… technically possible. He only needed to hear and give advice to do it, hence the job description. He didn't need to use the Force or use his lightsaber in combat to do it.

He thought it a lot of long moments. Time stretched on until everyone got fidgety and were unsure what he would say.

Kota threw up his hands. "Ah, hell! Might as well! If I'm going to die, might as well die spitting in the Empire's face. That's as good as what I had planned anyway."

"What did you have planned?"

"Dying at this bar one night."

"… That's… illuminating." The Harbinger said, unsure. He stood and said, "Welcome on board, Rahm Kota."

Kota extended his hand and the Harbinger shook it. "Great, let's head back to the ship." The Harbinger said.

"Nuh-uh." Kota argued.

"… What do you mean, nuh-uh?"

"As your advisor, my first order is sleep. Which I am lacking and which you have disturbed." Kota put his arms on the table and laid his head down on it.

"You cannot be serious!" The Harbinger yelled.

Kota ignored him and yawned. "Goodnight. We can get started in a few hours."

Kota was starting to get bored of just being at bars anyway. He truly was a soldier at heart and it was difficult to move on from the excitement of not knowing where you would end up from day to day. Well, if he was going to be a broken old, Jedi General, might as well do both.


	13. S01 Ep13

Note: I don't want to say this is filler, but this is, unfortunately, a part of the process to making a proper army. Starkiller has to learn that an army is more than just aim and fire and kill stuff.

* * *

_"A secret's worth depends on the people from whom it must be kept." - Carlos Ruiz Zafon_

* * *

**-Wilfhuff Tarkin-**

**-Orbit of Nar Shadaa-**

The Empire demonstrated order. Mathematical precision. The week, for example, was extended from seven to ten because it was mathematical.

The Imperial army itself was also mathematical, and even methodical. Its army numbered in the tens of trillions in regular army alone, trillions in fleet crew, and a sizable number of the more elite stormtroopers split by the thousands into various battalions, such as the 501st. The center hub of the Empire's army was in three places, being Anaxes, Bastion, and Byss, but by no means did they not extend into the rest of the galaxy.

As written in the Tarkin Doctrine, written and promulgated by Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin himself, the Empire and its expansion was split into thousands of sectors. Originally the Republic had twenty sector's, each with their own defending army in position, but under the Empire he felt there was a higher demand for… being methodical.

The Empire was split into thousands of sectors. Each sector had its own Moff and its own navy and army to ensure order. In turn, there were also Oversectors which was a group of sectors lead by a Grand Moff. In this way the Empire was split into Oversectors which was split into sectors which was split into systems and planets and surface regions with each individual region having its own military checkpoint.

All very nice and orderly.

So one could imagine how disappointed he was to enter into the Nar Shadaa system and find it… rather messy.

He listened to the excuses of the Moff Linkin, but all he could hear was excuses, excuses, excuses.

"I think I have heard enough." Tarkin stopped his counterpart. The Moff in charge of the system was under him, so it wasn't a breach of protocol for him to be here.

"I-but. What are we going to do about this?" Linkin questioned.

"We? I think the real question is what 'I' will be doing about this. Your incompetence has nearly lost us the system."

"I told you! It's not my fault! The damn Sith Inquisitor stirred the Hutts up!"

"Oh, yes. It's so very easy to fall into the victim mentality isn't it? Let me tell you something, Linkin. The moment you started doing that, you became a failure. Care to guess why?"

"How dare-!"

The Grand Moff explained simply, "Because when you profess innocence, you also claim incompetence. You make it out to be something beyond your control. That you are powerless and just the victim. And that is not something the Empire can afford. We are never the victims, we are the players."

Linkin fumed, but could say nothing. The Grand Moff sat in the man's own seat, literally took his office from him without so much as a memo. Tarkin turned the seat around and looked out the window.

Linkin restrained himself, and asked, "Then what it is I have failed at? The situation started beyond my control!"

"There are a great many things you could have controlled." Tarkin said simply. "For starters, you could have tried changing perspective on what was wrong to begin with. The Inquisitor was fully within his rights to arrest the Hutt. That is not the problem, and never has been. The problem is in your response to the inevitable Hutt counter-measure. You failed to expect it and now we have a war on our hands. You promised the Emperor you could control it, and look at this? We have a planet where we have lost almost half the regions."

"Many of the Hutts still profess loyalty to the Empire."

"And yet in the same breathe you do not say 'all'." Tarkin countered. "Yes, Moff Linkin. The situation started beyond your control because the man who started it was your equal. That is proper and good to understand, but you failed to act as a united army. The Inquisitor did his own thing, and you did your own INSTEAD of acting like a team player. You didn't back him up, you didn't anticipate, you were not proactive. You are reactive."

Tarkin stood and paced a moment, thinking, looking at the holographic image of Nar Shadaa with its status updates. "So, here is what I will do. First, I will be stepping in to restore order. Second, I will be having you sent back to Officer Academy."

Linkin grey red in the face with humilation, but wisely kept his mouth shut and his back straight.

"Third, we will begin to show the Hutts what an orderly war is."

Tarkin waved the man off. Linkin saluted and left angry, but in a march.

Tarkin watched the door shut and looked back up to the map. His trusted officers watched the talk and presented themselves before him. Tarkin said, "Make sure the transition of power goes smoothly, then we begin. First, I want every regional border locked down. No one in or out. Second, I want every regional checkpoint to flush all out all gangs in their immediate regions. If they need backup, they are to request backup from command, not from each other. All regions would be on lock down, including from each other. All information, orders, supplies, and troops are passed up to us and passed down from us. Third, we will restore inner-region borders, and expand back outwards one region at a time. Let's do this by the book. Whitney, time estimate?"

"I anticipate shifting control will take the day, and possibly the next two days for the rest that are out of touch. From there, we should be able to begin step three by the end of the month at minimal capacity, two months if we want all gangs removed and all regions to be at maximum efficency."

"Then let us say two months. I see no reason to move too fast." Tarkin nodded.

He turned off the holographic map and left to see the troops on the space station himself. He wasn't much into offices anyway. He preferred to look his men in the eye and measure their worth face to face.

**-Starkiller-**

**-Cloud City 43, Bespin-**

Starkiller, aka Harbinger, was quickly running out of patience. He tapped his fingers on a rail as he watched the area. He had yet to see any stormtroopers, but he didn't let himself lose his guard.

Bespin, so far as PROXY could pull off the holonet, was a planet owned by private corporations. It officially belonged to the Empire, but it was passed to a private corporation for mining. Bespin was a gas planet. A massive one. It naturally emitted the gas from the small planet, making it look deceivingly large. With only a hundred or so floating cities, and a trade business entirely around gas mining, it was easy to control.

The Banker's guild was deceiving themselves if they thought they owned Bespin. It may be their guards, but the Empire was too invested in their business.

And they had to be here, because a certain drunk decided that getting in a few hours of sleep was worth more than getting out of here… and getting a headstart on the Empire.

A few hours longer for Starkiller to wait to have Vader's head, and pull out Palpatine's voice box. It made him antsy.

Sitting here doing nothing made him antsy.

Conveniently, Falon Grey walked up. The Jedi tried to look casual, but he looked at the doorway with urgency. "Is he here?"

Starkiller nodded. "Passed out."

"Passed. Out?" Falon looked back at the door. "This is a bar!"

"He didn't have a drinking problem in the past?" Starkiller asked.

"He drank with the best of them, but never enough to affect his judgement."

"Well, his judgement is more than affected right now. He's sleeping over a bar stool. Won't be waking up for a while."

Falon sighed. "Our ride is almost here and he is sleeping?! He needs to get up."

Starkiller nodded in thought. He hadn't known their escape was already nearing. The ships that dropped them off was supposed to be flying around looking casual. Did that much time pass?

"We need to get him out of here." Starkiller muttered. He looked at Falon, then to Jowwarr. "Jedi, wait here."

Starkiller entered the pub, followed by his knights. There was the sound of a lightsaber igniting and cutting something. A minute later they walked out. Jowwarr was carrying the bar stool with the Jedi Master drooling ontop of it, dead to the world.

"He wants the stool, he can have it." Starkiller remarked. Falon laughed at the sight. Jowwarr looked embarrassed having to carry it, but Starkiller couldn't bring himself to care.

A few hours later, they were in route back to base when Kota snorted. He brought himself out of his sleep and sat up from the bar stool. He yawned before slamming his hand down on the table. "BARKEEP! Another ale."

"We're a bit short on ale here." Falon replied in good humor.

Kota turned his head toward the voice. He smiled widely. "Falon?"

"Don't recognize my voice?"

"Oh no, I'd know that voice even drunk! It is good to see you again!" Kota blindly reached out towards Falon, and Falon took his arm in greeting. "Well, as far as being blind goes."

"It is good to know you aren't dead, Master."

"Oh, well yeah, there's that." Kota agreed fervently. He cleared his throat. "So, did this Harbinger boy really get you onboard with his bit of insanity?"

"He has, for now. I'm willing to help and see where it goes." Falon replied casually.

"Well, this should be fun then."

The ship swayed a bit, and Kota stumbled out of his chair. "Whew… I must have had a bit much to drink. Everything is still spinning."

Falon chuckled.

"BARKEEP! Another ale for me and whatever he's having!" Kota yelled. "BARTENDER! Damnit, where is the bastard."

Kota stood up from the chair and stumbled around before face planting into the side of the ship. "What the- Who put a wall here?"

Starkiller rolled his eyes inside the mask and muttered, "Just tell him already."

"Tell me what?" Kota asked. He touched the wall and tried to go around it, only to find more wall. He muttered to himself, "Seriously, who the hell put a wall here?"

"Master." Falon started.

"Yeah?"

"We're not at a bar. We're on a ship."

"… no no no." Kota denied. He searched for the bar stool, found it, and patted it. "This is my bar stool. I know. It still has the gum where I left it. Ships don't have it, the bar I've been at does."

Starkiller grew impatient, "Doesn't the sound of the engine give it away?"

"Cloud City has a giant engine too, boy. It's a floating ship!"

He had a point, but it wasn't helping. Starkiller sighed. "I cut the base of your stool with a lightsaber and lifted both you and it here." Jowwarr eyed him. He had done the work. "So we just took it with you."

Kota stared in their direction blankly. Starkiller could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

"Damn, boy. Couldn't you just wake me up like a normal person?" Kota scoffed.

Starkiller shook his head to himself and turned in his seat to face the window. Behind them, Kota continued to talk and generally annoy him.

"… and I'm gonna need a new lightsaber." Kota muttered.

Red flags went off in Starkiller's mind, but he couldn't say why immediately. All he knew was he was suddenly panicking for some reason.

Why? What was it about Kota's sabers that made him tense?

"Did you lose it?" Falon asked.

"Hmm, yeah. Lost it on the station. Lost to one of Vader's Sith boys. Barely got out with my life intact."

Starkiller didn't move, but he felt himself begin to sweat and his eyes widened behind the mask. Thankfully the mask, dark robes, and leather and armor he wore kept him appearing stoic while he panicked.

He had given the lightsaber to Vader…

Kota had a direct link to Starkiller in Vader's mind, as well as Palpatines.

And if Kota suddenly was found associated with a rebellion lead by a nameless Sith, it wouldn't take a great leap of logic to put it together. Shit. Shit shit shit SHIT! Starkiller grit his teeth angrily. He was mad. No. he was INFURIATED! He screwed up massively. Starkiller was beyond little mistakes like this! STUPID!

He COULDN'T use Kota! Kota would be too easily leaked! The only choice they had was if NO ONE knew the co-leader of the rebellion was him.

Falon sighed, "I told you it was a fool's errand…"

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Let's not dig up history, I learned my lesson. I was just so full of pent up frustration I needed an outloud, lad."

"I know you did…" Falon patted his master's shoulder in understanding. "Still scared me to death. If it weren't for the Harbinger, I wouldn't have been able to know you lived at all."

Falon walked to the front of the ship where Starkiller was and faced him. "I know I was skeptical, but you have proven yourself. I don't deny I will always have a healthy skepticism towards you, as you are Sith, but you have my thanks. You have saved my life, the lives of my men, and brought my master back seemingly from the dead. That means a lot to me."

"Your welcome." Starkiller answered neutrally. He turned to face Kota and continued to berate himself. So damn STUPID!

Starkiller asked, "Falon, would you mind checking inventory for a bit? I need to chat privately with Kota for a few minutes."

Falon looked on him with confusion. It was a very… unusual request. "We don't have inventory."

"Then make it up. I don't care. I need a few minutes with him alone. My knights not-withstanding."

Falon looked a bit offended at the brash manner he was being ordered, but Kota recognized the seriousness of his tone. "It's okay, lad. Just give us a few minutes. Sounds serious."

"Okay…" Falon begrudgingly walked out of the cockpit.

Starkiller waited until he was sure Falon was out of earshot. "We have a problem."

"Sounds like it. Care to explain?"

Starkiller stood up and sat down closer to Kota, just in case. He didn't want the slightest miniscule chance of this even echoing. "When I returned from my mission, I presented Vader with your lightsaber."

"Yeah? So he has it? Its fine, boy. I can make a new one." Kota shrugged it off.

"No, no. But imagine if suddenly a rebellion appears with the leaders of it being a Jedi I was supposed to have killed, and a mysterious Sith behind a mask?"

Kota straightened up slightly and frowned. "I feel like I'm missing a detail here… You used to serve him, now you are turning on the Empire itself and I'll be joining you. Yet you want to keep yourself secret… Does he think you are somewhere else on a mission?... Do you have a quota or something?"

"He thinks I'm DEAD!" Starkiller hissed quietly.

"Oh!" Kota whispered in realization. "That changes things."

Starkiller felt no reason to agree with the obvious. "I can't allow Vader or Palpatine to trace my rebellion back to me. I am not ready for them…" Starkiller looked up to him. "No one can know you exist either. If anyone in our rebellion gets caught…"

Kota balked. "Falon's men served me once before, boy. I handpicked them. These aren't wet-behind-the-ears recruits!"

"It won't matter how tough your soldiers are when their memories are being dug out of their skulls. Even without torture, the Sith Lords can pull the information out of their minds. Knowing Palpatine, he uses torture more out of amusement than being practical."

"Are Sith trained to do that?"

"I wasn't, but then Vader could peer into my thoughts easily and he taught me basic mental domination techniques. I can only imagine what they can do."

Kota nodded and digested that particurally difficult thought. It looked like he had a hard time swallowing it. "Sounds like the rebellion will need a secretive control structure… No one should know more than necessary, so if they are caught, they can't endanger their comrades."

"Can you do that?"

"It's a command structure like any other, boy. I'll be right back." Kota stood up and left the cockpit.

**-Rahm Kota-**

**-Lounge room-**

Kota found Falon stewing in another room. While normally he might probe him and see what was aggravating him, it was obviously the Harbinger's brash dismissal of him and unfortunately time was pressing. "Falon, lad. Who among our men know I am alive? Who knows of this mission?"

"Kanon and one of the Harbinger's friends, why?"

Kota nodded. "That's good. Get in touch with Kanon immediately and make sure he doesn't spread the word. My existence is top secret as of now."

"Secret?!" Falon demanded. "Surely you jest! The men would weep to know you are still alive! The only reason I haven't told EVERYONE is because there are only so many people to stick on this ship!"

"Falon-"

"No!"

"If the Empire catches wind I am still alive they will kill you!" Kota yelled. "I'm not just some nameless Jedi! I'm a former Jedi Master! I'm a former General! While all Jedi are high on Vader's crap list, I'm pretty damn high! I have lost touch with the Force, and I feel as old as I look, but if my name appears anywhere… we can expect a lot of attention very quickly."

Falon grit his teeth. "First this Harbinger has secrets that will endanger us, and now you? Him, I can understand. His very existence is a mystery, but his actions have shown something of his resolve. But you, Master? You would distance yourself from your brothers-in-arms but take in league with this mystery man?"

Kota turned away. That hurt.

Falon pressed, "What is it about the Harbinger that is so important? When I met him, he was hard pressed to find you. That you were the key to everything for him. I was skeptical then, and I still am. You meet him briefly and you jump on the wagon with him while FIRST forgetting and THEN neglecting the people who have bled beside you?!"

"Prophecy, Falon." Kota said. "I had a vision from the Force that I would play a role in his rebellion and his army. I was a skeptic, hell, I almost spat in the Force's FACE! The idea of working alongside some Sith I didn't know, and after losing my connection to the Force and the lives of all the men I took with me?! How ridicules is that?! If I had truly believed it at the time, I would have sat in my apartment and waited patiently for him to find me. I didn't believe it until you two found me earlier!"

"Did this vision tell you to abandon the rest of us and make your friends believe you to still be dead?"

"No. Necessity. Falon, Vader sent an assassin after me once. If he gets even a whisper that I might still be alive, he won't settle for just an assassin… he will come himself with a whole fleet!"

Falon didn't say anything for a moment, and Kota felt their relationship strain slightly. But he also felt it would hold. They didn't have some weak relationship where they couldn't talk about things, they had always been able to talk about everything. They were open like that. They fought at times, but they knew how to work it out.

Falon said, "I'll tell Kanon to keep it secret. No one will know you exist until you decide otherwise."

Kota sighed and felt the weight of the decision on them. Kanon would be even harder to persuade than Falon. Was he abandoning his men? No. He would rather have them still believing him dead than Vader killing them. Kota would continue to watch over them, but from the shadows.

Kota reached out for Falon's shoulder, failed to find more than an arm, and contented himself with patting it in a gesture of appreciation. He walked through the darkness back to where he guessed the cockpit was and let himself fall into one of the chairs with a deep groan.

"Did it go well?" Harbinger's synthesized voice asked.

"As well as can be expected." Kota rubbed his temples. He had a small hangover and was already having to diffuse a situation. It was good to get it out of the way, but he had the disctinct impression working with the Sith boy would prove… troublesome.

Did they have any drinks back at base. They better. Otherwise this wouldn't be worth it.

A few minutes later, Falon entered the cockpit again and sat down in silence. There was still tension in him, but Kota felt it would pass. He had other things on his mind.

"Where am I going to stay?" Kota asked openly. "I can't exactly be seen publically."

"You can stay on my ship for now." Harbinger suggested.

"Works for me. Although you will need a new ship at some point. The Imperial shuttle will draw attention." Falon said.

"What model is it?" Kota wondered.

"Lambda-class T-4a shuttle."

Kota whistled. "That's a good one. Don't get rid of it. It is armed with a couple laser cannons, has an excellent hyperdrive engine, thick armor, and is large enough for plenty of cargo and men. Its manufactured by Sienar, so it probably had a tracking device. Did you get rid of the tracker?"

"Yes." Harbigner siad.

"See? There you go. Problem solved." Kota leaned back and relaxed.

"You know a surprising lot about Imperial Tech…" Harbinger said.

"Actually no, helps to know the manufacture. Siengar has always been a good company up till it went bankrupt. Solid ships. Solid tech. Big on security, private military, and military vessels."

"We have a tank at the base. Think its good?" Falon said.

"What model?"

"AT-TE, with a heavy turbolaser cannon rather than mass accelerator cannon."

"Not bad, not bad. The turbolaser can tear a chunk out of most space ships, especially the slower ones. Except the AT-TE is designed for that much energy conception and the cannon is too heavy. Will need adjusting to get it ready." Kota mused to himself.

"We're there." Falon announced.

Kota leaned back and rested while the ship landed somewhere and they left the cockpit. Kota didn't move. A few minutes later, Harbinger returned. The ship they were already in was the Lambda-class shuttle, so there was no need for Kota to move.

Looks like Kota would be living on the ship a while. "Can I have my stool nailed to the floor?" Kota asked.

Harbinger sighed. Kota couldn't help but smile. It sounded funny through his synthetic voice-filter.

Kota laughed. "I payed for it, boy. I'm keeping it. As for your little army, if I am going to get started helping you, I first need a complete inventory, as well as discussing with you what kind of army you want me to advise you on making."

"Sounds like you are getting serious." Harbinger commented. He sounded pleased.

Kota smiled evilly. "Not really, I just know it like the back of my hand, and it will take you DAYS to do what I have in mind."

"Oh God…"

Kota got himself comfortable and said, "First, I need a complete inventory on vehicles that work, vehicles that don't work, the number of bases, the amount of livable square feet per base, the number of personnel in your army, as well as Falon's army, with a basic background check including: age, medical conditions, race, marital status, who they are married to, and the level of trust you have with them and your identity."

"You can't be serious."

Kota laughed. "Oh, I'm just getting started!... You might want to get a piece of paper to write all this down."

At the end of the day Kota wanted a lot of things. He wanted to know every contact outside of the army that could be trusted by every person, all of the food they had split into the specific food-items, the amount of medicine, medical supplies, toiletries, living quarters, living quarters by square feet, freshers, freshers by square feet, weapons, ammunition, income, datapads, the hardware of the datapads, the number of turrets split up by type and position along with all other security capabilities, the number of doors split by type and proximity to the outside, credits, bank accounts (down to every last detail), hard cash… and it went on and on and on. At last count there were more than a hundred and seven things Kota wanted him to get an inventory of.

And, of course, the last of it was a count of all alcohol by tonnage.

"I'm going to need some help… Make that a team." Harbinger said with clearly growing dread. Kota heard him flipping the pages back and forth. It took five pages just to list the items he needed inventoried. "What's a tampon? Is that like a Gungan?"

Kota laid his head down on the bar stool. "You'll figure it out, or go ask a lady friend, up to you. Wake me up when you're done. Should take you, oh, a few days if you hurry." He yawned and willed himself to sleep.

Knowing the kid, it would take a week. Maybe even a month. Kota would wait three days before telling him that Falon already has an inventory sheet of most of it. Then Kota would wait five days before telling him which part of the list is actually a priority. Which was simply: alcohol, food, personnel by name and skill-set, and then transportation, in that order. The rest was just to keep the boy busy and make him tear his hair out.

Payback was fun.


	14. S01 Ep14

**Note: Here, I am expanding the story into the next major phase. You will see what I mean but I am making a LOT of OC's, and now taking the story down a new path. The story, after all, does need to be as adaptable as the rebel army itself has to be.**

**When I was considering the two major 'sources' of the Rebel Alliance, being The Force Unleashed and Rebels, I realized something. They both began being team based. So I did research on warfare as to what kind of warfare Kota would instruct Starkiller on.**

**Symmetrical warfare is when two armies fight that are of similar strengths, resources, and enviroments.**

**Asymmetrical warfare is when the two armies are not balanced, but one is much weaker and smaller. This creates an imbalance. One is smaller, faster, and often knows the terrain better so it has to use tactics, while the larger one often is slower, more costly, and can use its size to its advantage easily.**

**The biggest example of asymmetrical warfare is guerrilla tactics where the army is split into small teams that can survive in the wilds for years without any backup, and have the simple mission of causing as much damage as possible to the larger and slower army while evading attention and capture.**

**Also, I will be returning to doing In the Path of the Ravager again. I had a good break to step away from it. Writing the chapter that revealed Valkorion left me a bit exhausted. I had been anticipating that chapter a long time, and we finally reached it.**

**Time for war.**

* * *

_All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near. - Sun Tzu (The first recorded instance of guerrilla warfare.)_

* * *

**-Juno Eclipse-**

**-Cafeteria-**

It had been a long month. A very long, very embarrassing, month since they had set up camp at Falon's bunker. Juno didn't mind the community, they were a great bunch of people. Self-exiles and people just trying to survive like her. They weren't a problem. Problem was her friend that she still wanted to strangle.

He had the nerve to approach her, while she was surrounded by her new friends, and ask her what a tampon was. He treated it like it was some kind of species!

So yeah, she was still miffed. Rumors and gossip spread like fire, and public humiliation went with it. She made her stance very well known that her 'friend' was not to step foot within arm's reach of her until she was ready to talk to him again. It took Falon and Starkiller both to stomp down on it to keep from hurting the Harbinger's image, and to reduce the rumor that him and Mrs. Eclipse were an 'item'.

He was a kid! With, like, ZERO social skills! As if. She still couldn't sit down without her friend, Vanessa, hiding a barely concealed giggle.

"Don't you start." Juno said. She looked at her food and considered sending it back. Falon had ordered all perishable items, such as food, rationed almost a month ago shortly after the inventory check had been done. For some reason Starkiller was completely pissed off when it was over.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it!" Vanessa was crying now from trying not to laugh. She was a Twil'lek. "I still remember the look on your face!"

Juno rolled her eyes and ate anyway, only to stop with the spoon hanging in her open mouth. Starkiller, in full Harbinger uniform, was standing ten feet away. Judging from how he was looking at her, he wanted to talk, but was also keep his distance. To most people, he looked stoic and a little out of place amidst a crowd of people. To Juno, he was sheepish and uncertain.

"Oh, damnit." Juno hissed quietly to herself.

"What?" Vanessa asked. She didn't see him. Starkiller decided to go through his fear and approach her anyway.

"Juno, if I might have a word." He said.

"No. Go away!" Juno hissed. She tried to hide behind her hand. She was embarrassed just having him here. People on other tables were starting to stare and snicker.

Vanessa added helpfully, "No, it's okay. Go ahead. Ask her anything you want!"

"You aren't helping!" Juno glared daggers at her friend.

"It's serious." Starkiller stressed. He managed to ignore everything around them.

Juno groaned. He was being stubborn, and unfortunately she knew he was a lot more stubborn than she was. And if it was important, might as well. It had better be important enough to risk a rumor being spread AGAIN!

"Fine." Juno pushed away her food and followed him out. She did her best to not notice the snickers, but she still felt her ears go red. They turned a corner and Starkiller turned to direct his attention back to her. She looked into his reflective mask and waited.

"You know what we returned from Bespin with?" He asked.

Juno nodded. "A certain 'friend' of ours."

"Exactly. We have been talking hard, discussing, planning on how to get this army started properly. The way it now stands is that since we are so much smaller and weaker than the Empire, we have to engage in guerrilla warfare in what he calls asymmetrical warfare."

"I'm familiar with the terms." She provided.

"Good. We are in the process of setting up the command structure now. Our 'friend' will be at the top with a team of handlers to help him keep everything organized."

"Is there a point to this?" Juno wondered impatiently.

Starkiller continued to explain, "The handlers will have a number of teams each, and every team will have their own missions."

"Everyone will be split into teams?" Juno asked.

Starkiller shook his head. "No. Only those with special skills and can survive easily enough on their own wits. The majority of the army will be working in bases and larger ships. We may have a few large teams soon, like enough to properly man a starship, but right now the teams are small and elite. When we discussed names, yours was the first I thought of. I want to know if you will be a team leader."

Juno blinked in surprise and couldn't help blushing a tiny bit. It wasn't every day she was the first pick for… much of anything. "Wow. I-I appreciate that."

Starkiller nodded. "As a favor, and per our agreement, I am not ordering you. I came to you because you are the only one I am asking. You are free to decline, but…" He let it drop.

"Could I be a handler?" She tested the waters.

"You can be. But I figured you would feel better being in the pilot chair."

She smiled brightly. "You figured right. Thanks, I appreciate it. I-I don't know…"

He nodded. "It is a big decision. The team leaders will be gathered later today for their debriefing. If you are interested in being a team leader, then go through that door in two hours." He pointed to one at the end of the hall. "And, of course, if you are not interested, then don't walk through the door. I -uh-won't make the decision for you." He said awkwardly.

"Thank you." It was good seeing him nervous and uncertain. Made his gesture more sincere.

"Yeah…" He looked around and rubbed his cheek in a very human gesture. "I'll see you."

She waved as he left and smiled to herself. He may be overly serious at times and have almost no social skills, but he was sincere. She could forgive him.

Two hours later, Juno made up her mind and entered the room. It was dark. She was the third person.

The first was Starkiller, still in his uniform. He nodded to her at her entrance and seemed to relax more. He sat in the far back of the room. In front of him was an empty chair, and in front of this chair stood five more chairs in a row facing them.

The first in a row sat Kanon. He sat with his arms looped in a relaxed, laid back manner. Kanon smirked when she entered and nodded.

The second chair sat a man she recognized as being a man named Orga. She didn't know his real name, no one did. It was the name he went by. He was a dark-skinned man with bleached white hair that shot up in wild spikes. He was tall, well-toned and muscular. He had strong resolve from an even stronger heart. She saw him with the kids all the time. There was a small community among them of children and orphans they could not leave behind on Nar Shadaa, and some of the children of the soldiers. Orga was the oldest of the orphans (about twenty-two) and was a big brother to them all. In turn, he considered them to be his family. His strength was that of a big brother.

The third chair was empty, so Juno sat in it.

The next person to enter was a large muscular man. Much thicker than Orga, and older. His hair was dark, short, and spiked. Juno recognized him, but didn't know him or his name. He wore a simple t-shirt that failed to hide his bulk and sat down on Juno's other side.

The last person to enter, and take up a chair, was a gangly man with glasses. He twirled an old fashioned stop-watch on a string around his hand. He adjusted his glasses, looked at them all, nodded to himself, and sat down.

Sometime later, Falon Grey entered.

"Welcome, everyone." Falon started. He sat down in the chair facing them. "Now that I am here, you have five minutes to leave if you wish. If you do not leave, then I will consider it as your agreement and you will be sworn to secrecy."

He waited a solid five minutes. Juno glanced around a bit nervously at the silence ticking by, but no one moved. The fifth man polished his glasses again and Kanon closed his eyes and relaxed. At last, Falon deemed it time, "Excellent. Then you are sworn to secrecy. For the sake of introduction, the man behind me is The Harbinger, the leader of a rebel army and an ally to us. We will be cooperating with him and his growing army, and coordinating our efforts. In order to do that properly, we have had to do some restructuring. Part of that restructuring is in assembling a command structure where there are a lot of teams doing missions, and a handler coordinating them. I am your handler, and you are my team leaders. Now, please stand and identify yourselves, starting with you."

Kanon slipped his pistol back into its holster and stood. "Kanon Jarrus."

"You will be the leader of Team Ghost."

Orga snapped up with his back straight. "Orga… That's it."

"You will be the leader of Team Specter."

Juno stood and saluted. "Juno Eclipse."

"You will be the leader of Team Phantom."

The fourth man didn't bother standing. "Barbor Atos. Or just call me Barboratos. I prefer it that way."

"You will be the leader of Team Wraith."

The last man raised himself up, patted some dust off his pants, pushed his glasses back up his nose, and said, "I am Teiwaz Galru."

"You will be the leader of Team Shade."

"Good." Falon nodded. "As of now, you will refer to me as Ethereal Being. No one on your team is to know who your handler is unless they are authorized to know."

Falon cleared his throat. "There are other handlers with other teams, but you will not know them. The risk is real. Your missions will be dangerous, and our enemy is the Empire. If the Empire captures you, they can torture it out of you, and so for the sake of your comrades, you will know only what is deemed worthy for you to know. You will not know of each other's missions. You are only being allowed to know of each other as team leaders for the sake of future cooperation in joint efforts. No one is to know of your missions. Not other teams, and not anyone on base. Everything is on a need-to-know basis, right down to our identities."

Falon continued, "You will be given team members up to a point. After that, it is up to you to recruit on your own. Each of you also come with a certain degree of anonymity. While you will be given missions, you are also free to do what you need to do to survive within the limits of damaging us or each other in any way. You are free to recruit and request missions based on your own findings and intelligence. As your handler, however, it is important that all important decisions and events be passed through me. Is that understood?"

They acknowledged it.

"Dismissed."

* * *

**-Starkiller-**

**-Falon's Bunker (He is of the opinion it needs a new name.)-**

Starkiller watched them leave the room and Falon closed the door with the Force.

"That went well." Falon released a deep breathe.

"Agreed. Now you have another set of teams to do."

"We need more handlers… I can't be double-teaming two groups for too long. I shouldn't even know about the other teams and their missions, by regulation. I also need to get everyone a ship… we won't have anything left when we're done."

"We'll get more handlers and more ships." Starkiller assured him. "But for now, I have a mission to go to."

"Have fun."

Starkiller left the room and returned to his ship. He found Kota snoring on a chair and made sure to kick his feet out from under him as he passed. Kota stirred roughly.

"Oh, you." Kota said.

"Yep, you ready?" Starkiller asked.

"Whenever you are."

"PROXY, get us out of here."

"Yes, Master!"

Starkiller wandered around the shuttle. Jowwarr was polishing his shields in the cargo room, Kota slept on the bar stool he had nailed into the lounge room, and PROXY was piloting the ship. In the middle of the lounge was also a holographic projector where Kota would also be communicating with his team of handlers, base managers, and intelligence team. The holographic projector was designed to change Kota's features to keep his identity secret. Only the most trusted handlers would know of him, and only after being sworn to secrecy.

Kota's plan was for the army to be a secret army in its growing stages. They were not ready to openly fight, and so they had to fight in secret.

Starkiller remembered the conversation they had. It was long, but showed him how little he really knew.

An army was not about weapons, it was about lives.

Weapons, gear, transportation was a tool for those lives to reduce the lives of the enemy faction.

Sponsors supplied money, which could magically turn into any tool they needed.

Sponsors supplied lives.

An army was built on its sponsors. The Imperial army had the Empire, so his rebellion would need sponsors willing to put money, lives, and names on him.

Then logistics was about keeping an open and easy flow between the sponsors and their army.

From there, he needed lives, he needed to get things to support those lives, and he needed leaders to direct the lives.

Starkiller could barely wrap his mind around the complication… He may be realistic or borderline-pessimistic, but he felt truly blessed by the Force for a moment to have Kota. Kota at least understood this crap.

Starkiller took off his mask and breathed without it for the first time that day. Even ship-filtered air smelled good. He left his robes on his bunk and took a few minutes to meditate.

Once they were out in space traveling the hyperspace paths, Starkiller woke Kota up. "We're out in space. Now what's the mission?"

Kota popped a kink in his neck. "Alright, alright. Well, boy. A while back, a certain Senator approached me about a mission…"

* * *

**-Team Ghost-**

**-In space-**

Kanon sat next to his co-pilot, Vanessa, and put his feet up on the dashboard.

"Feet off." Vanessa reprimanded him. She nudged his boots but he didn't move. He just put his akubra hat over his eyes, leaned back, and relaxed.

"Take us to Mandalore. Wake me when we get there."

* * *

**-Team Specter-**

**-In Space-**

Orga walked around the ship, inspecting it. It looked like a nice ship. What he was checking for was not its efficiency, per say, but the sharp edges. Kids could hurt themselves easily here.

After getting some concerns on parts of the ship he needed to take a sander to, he returned to the cockpit.

"How's it going guys?" He asked.

The girl in the pilot seat giggled in glee as she pushed buttons and pulled switches. Her twin brother sat in his wheelchair directing her through a mental link they shared.

"It is going well." The twin brother said.

"Yeah… I can see that." Orga watched the twin sister learn how to pilot a ship through space in minutes. Before his eyes she had no idea what she was doing one moment and nearly crashed them a dozen times, and the next had the ship flying smoothly.

"What do you think? Artemis, Enyo, Bellona, Nike?" Orga asked.

The twin brother considered them. "Artemis is a Goddess of the hunt. Nike is the goddess of victory. Enyo and Bellona are both goddesses of destructive warfare while being siblings to a war god. What do you think, sister?"

"Bellona sounds cool! Who is she?"

Orga smiled and smirked. So she finally knew a name she liked? "That's you."

"Really?!" The newly dubbed Bellona looked on them in amazement. "I didn't know my name was Bellona! That's so cool!"

"Sure is." Orga patted her little head. "Let's get going. We have a mission to accomplish."

"I guess that makes me Mars." Her twin brother said.

"Only if you want."

"It fits." Mars said with a shrug. Bellona continued to be excited about flying the ship.

As much as it sucked to be only capable of muscle memory, it also must mean everything is exciting and new. Orga felt sorry for her a bit, but she had people to take care of her, so she was happy and that was the important thing.

"Let's make sure to get a call for Juno later." Orga suggested. "Last thing we need is Bellona forgetting her in the middle of a mission, and she can show off the fact she finally has a name she likes."

"What about our handler?"

"He's made an exception for those two. Juno is like a sister to her."

* * *

**-Team Phantom-**

**-In Space too-**

Juno sat in the pilot seat and looked over at her co-pilot. Her co-pilot was easy to read. He had a full uniform clean and pressed, spoke with military correctness to her. He didn't know his name yet and already she figured this could work.

She would need to thank Starkiller for sticking her with someone she could work with easily. Now if the guy could have a sense of humor, it could prove to be a good team.

"Our mission is to find a ship or two to steal at Orbital Shipyard CC-24. Its owned by the Sienar Fleet Systems. You up for that?"

"Yes, maam! Whenever you are."

"Great." She nodded and pulled back on the switch to send them into hyperspace.

"I have set my alarm for 5:30 for early calestinics, so I should probably set it to 5am for meditation and study on the system."

"Oh I don't that will be necess-"

"Make that 4:30… need to get some more polish on the floors."

She stared at him. He was truly serious. "You don't have to be that precise…"

"Floors don't clean themselves…" He looked at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She stared back at him and slowly realized… he was serious. She groaned.

* * *

**-Team Wraith-**

**-Let's just cut to the chase and say everyone's in space!-**

Barboratos looked out the window of the cockpit. He had his arms roped together and he was as still and unmoving as a statue. He remained unblinking, staring, an oppressive spirit against his enemy.

"Nar Shadaa." He said simply.

Too bad he wasn't in the presence of an enemy.

His pilot looked at his indominable presence and gulped. He pulled back on the switch, sent them into hyperspace, and started to sweat. Even after an hour the guy wasn't moving…

Please just move. Something! Anything! A twitch! A blink! Something! It was starting to freak him out! BREATHE MAN!

* * *

**-Team Shade-**

**-I'm not going to say it again…-**

Teiwaz Galru cleaned his glasses and peered over the instructions again. He checked the wording and found it to be exacting.

"Why, yes. This is quite clear. Quite clear indeed."

"Sir? What are our orders?"

"Oh, never mind you that. Just fly somewhere."

"Sir?"

"Go on." Teiwaz waved him off. "Pick a spot, it doesn't matter."

The pilot looked back out the window. He thought about it a moment. "Does right here work?"

Teiwaz looked up from where he was reading. "This does qualify as somewhere, doesn't it? I guess it might. Carry on."

The pilot nodded, stared out the window for a moment before coming to a conclusion, got up from his seat, and decided to get something to snack on.

* * *

**Teams:**

Handler: Kota

Team 0 Harbinger - Leader: Harbinger with Jowwarr, PROXY, and Kota

Handler: (Ethereal Being) Falon Grey

Team 1 Ghost - Leader: Kanon Jarrus with Vanessa Marshall

Team 2 Specter - Leader: Orga with Bellona, Mars

Team 3 Phantom - Leader: Juno Eclipse with nameless

Team 4 Wraith - Leader: Barboratos with nameless

Team 5 Shade - Leader: Teiwaz Galru with nameless

If anyone has any ideas on missions or characters to give to the teams, I'm all ears. I'm having to balance a LOT of people and missions now!


	15. S01 Ep15

Note: I have been informed that I have been spelling Kanan's name wrong the whole time. So here you go! It's Kanan, not Kanon!

* * *

There are three methods to gaining wisdom. The first is reflection, which is the highest. The second is limitation, which is the easiest. The third is experience, which is the bitterest.

Confucius

* * *

**-Team Harbinger-**

**-En route to Kashyyyk-**

Starkiller left meditation to check up on their progress.

He left his mask in the cabin and had only one lightsaber on his hip. The shuttle was roomy because of the lack of proper cargo, but it lacked enough room for him to train himself from day to day. He could do pushups and the like in the cargo bay while Jowwarr passed the time next to him, but what Starkiller really wanted was someone to duel with. He couldn't fight with PROXY in this tight space.

What's more, he felt something was holding him back. There were only so much he could get from pushups and running in place. He needed exercise machines to focus his efforts on the right muscles. He needed space to do laps in. He needed people to push himself against and something proper to test his skills.

Jowwarr had erected a hanging net as his hammock in the cargo bay, Kota slept on the couch in the lounge, and PROXY was ever vigilant in the cockpit. Starkiller was the only one to use the multi-person cabin. So he had room to breathe, but not enough to flex himself. And it made him antsy.

He needed progress. He needed something to throw himself at. He needed action, not constantly… sitting around.

Their progress was getting closer. They were nearing the Kashyyyk system, but it wouldn't be for a while till they arrive.

"Settle down, boy. You'll burn a trench in the floor." Kota murmured from where he lay on the couch.

Starkiller ignored him. "PROXY!" He yelled.

"Yes, Master." PROXY scurried out of the cockpit.

"Give me the situation on Kashyyyk again."

"Kashyyyk is a forested planet currently in stage four of Imperial conquest. The natives, a people called the Wookies, are renowned for their strength and ability to perform manual labor as well as having a strong honor code and tenacity as a people. Originally a member of the Republic, Kashyyyk was one of a number of planets to leave the Empire in its early days along with Naboo. Kashyyyk was quickly conquered intitially by Lord Vader and the 501st and has since been slowly passing the stages of Imperial conquest under the supervision of Moff Ozzik Sturn. Moff Sturn is a man with a taste for the exotic, and is a Moff because of connections. He has a firm grasp of politics and warfare, but produces slow results because of a preoccupation with collecting trophies, mansions, and partying."

Starkiller nodded. This would be easy. The leader was wasting his skills away so he would be an easy kill if he needed to be removed. But more importantly, the target, a woman named Leia, was held in a place that, while it was established as a fortress, was probably allowed to rot.

"Shouldn't be hard." Starkiller acknowledged.

"You're joking right?" Kota asked.

"Why wouldn't it be? I can get in and out of the fortress easily."

"Boy, don't you know what your droid just said? Kashyyyk is in stage four of Imperial conquest."

"Meaning?"

Kota sighed and looked up in exasperation. "Boy… okay." Kota pulled himself up to a sitting position. "If we are going to know how to fight the Empire properly, you have to understand how they think, how they move. The Empire's tactics is based on 'The Machines of War', a book written by Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin."

"And you read it? You're blind."

"Not before I took a jab at you, boy. I read it so I would know how the Empire thinks. Why do you think I struck a space station?"

Now that he mentioned it, Starkiller didn't know. He had been required by Vader to be educated, but 'The Machines of War' had never been on the list of reading material. And Starkiller never asked why Kota struck the space station over Nar Shadaa.

"Okay." Starkiller nodded. He sat down opposite Kota. "Why did you strike the space station?"

Kota took a moment to gather his thoughts. "To proper control a nation in this galaxy, you control the trade paths. You blockade them, isolate them, pick their resistance apart piece by piece. Or, you utterly wipe away resistance or you go straight for the throat. There are many ways, but the most common for the Empire is the 'blockade and isolate' method. Stage one is 'space control'. The Empire destroys all resistance in the system and space surrounding the planet, including any cannons on the surface capable of shooting at anything out of orbit. Stage one is complete once a system cannot resist the power of a Star Destroyer just out of orbit and the system is under lock-down. Lock-down is achieved by having one Star Destroyer in the system armed with an hyperspace dampening field generator, or, six Acclamator-class assault ships, or equivalent space stations in orbit. By having the ships positions correctly, they can keep anyone from leaving and anyone from entering in secret, and many times keep them from entering or leaving at all."

"Is that what we can expect?"

"Yes. Any system categorized as having a Stage One conquest is considered under Imperial control, and the following stages are established more slowly by lesser military figures. But what makes Stage One so important?"

Starkiller thought about it a moment. If the Empire had starships in orbit, and you can't get in or out, and you can't resist…

"They have the entire planet hostage." Starkiller said.

"They do, and?"

Starkiller didn't respond. Kota sighed, "To be fair, there are innumerable ways the Empire controls them by just having the starships in orbit without resistance. But the ones that lay the groundwork for the following stages are blockading the planet, having absolute maneuverability, and being able to hit the planet from orbit with turbolasers. Imagine, you have an army on the surface, a rebellion."

"That's along the lines of what I hope to create." Starkiller nodded. Although Kota couldn't see it.

"Well, imagine that army suddenly cut off from food, weapons, and fuel. Imagine that army being outmaneuvered because they go someplace, and the Empire is ALREADY there. Imagine that army being bombarded with turbolazers from orbit."

Kota allowed Starkiller a moment to consider it. Just for clarity, Kota decided to add, "And the power of a single turbolaser bolt is between 5,000 and 30,000 terajoules, depending on recharge time."

"How much is that?"

"Oh, about…" Kota put his hands together to measure distance between them. "Each shot would be equivalent to a B53 nuclear BOMB!"

"Nuclear bomb?!" The boy gasped.

"Now do you see what we are facing?"

Starkiller had to sit down as horrifying realization came to him. He was a Sith. He was powerful. But the power being a single turbolaser would push him beyond his limits if he had to shield himself in some way or contain the blast. And that was just one laser bolt… A Star Destroyer could shoot them rapidly.

A bomb like that, a laser like that… its damage could not be measured in inches, feet, or meters, but miles.

And it could fire from orbit.

With precision…

In every scenario Starkiller saw, the situation Kota presented to him would fall in failure.

Kota, however, did not allow the Sith to think all was lost. "Boy, they are powerful, and it is good to comprehend it, but remember that there are methods of defense that are powerful as well. A nation is based around survival and security, otherwise there is no foundation. So for every technology made to be offensive, there must be something made defensive to counter it."

"Offense is the best defense." Starkiller argued.

"It is, in the sense that you can secure borders and have a strong presence that keeps rivals from trying anything risky. When you have a strong offense, then the risk the enemy takes is greater, and political moves must always be measured against risk. War is merely a form of politics. But this 'offense' policy requires a number of factors."

"First," Kota continued, "You must have superior factories, resources, wealth, logistics, and soldiers in order to keep an offensive policy firm. A strong military is very expensive and doesn't generate wealth on its own. Having clients and backers is not the same as an economic infrastructure. "

"Second, you must have a superior technology capable of not only keeping ahead of your rivals, but also a defensive technology or safeguards capable of defending against your OWN technology when it is stolen."

Starkiller nodded and sat in thought. Kota excused himself briefly to instruct PROXY to stop, hold position, and hide. Kota was not going to allow them to get into the system before Starkiller had a full comprehension of what they were facing. And Kota wouldn't say what it was until he was convinced.

If the boy had a problem with that, he could kiss his big fat old half-drunken white ass.

**-Team Shade-**

**-Somewhere in deep space-**

Teiwaz Galru sat at the table tinkering. He removed his glasses and laid them beside himself. He peered into the magnifying glass and zoomed in far, while in both hands he used precision tools.

His co-pilot, or rather, pilot, lounged on the couch opposite himself in the laziest position possible. His arms were spread out to the floor and he had one leg on the arm of the couch and the other leg on the floor. He was being so incredibly lazy he was drooling and had a bag of chips.

The ship shook violently and alarms blared. Teiwaz glanced up briefly. "It would appear we have been caught."

"Yeah…"

Teiwaz paid it no mind and returned to his work.

The ship shook again, and there was the recognizable sound of something snapping in position on the other side of the cargo-door. Sparks flew from the door and a cut slowly appeared down its side. A door was cut open and a number of men stormed in. Teiwaz could hear them searching the cargo bay, securing their position, and taking control of the ship piece by piece.

"It would appear we have been boarded."

"Yeah…"

"Sure are noisy."

"Yeah…"

"Did you remember your noise-cancelation ear-plugs?"

"Not really."

Teiwaz picked a pair up and tossed them to his pilot. The pilot put them in his ears. Moments later, the room was stormed by men. Teiwaz glanced up long enough to recognize their entry.

"It would appear we have been boarded by pirates."

His pilot didn't respond, as he didn't hear it.

The pirates, though, waved guns around and yelled, "Hand over the ship! This is a hostile takeover! Get on the ground!"

"We are already in compromising positions and you will find we are unarmed." Teiwaz replied. He turned his position back to his work and blew away the dust off the components he was working on. "There are also only two of us."

"Then surrender!" The pirates yelled. Guns were shoved in Teiwaz's face, but he was unfazed.

"I take it you opened the door?" Teiwaz asked.

"Of course we did! That's how we got here!"

"And if you were to yell for reinforcements, your ship would hear it?"

"Yeah! Exactly! Lots of reinforcements! So you better watch it!"

Teiwaz nodded, grabbed a pair of noise-cancelling ear-plugs and inserted them into his ears. "So I am guessing you have lots of goods? Done any good pillaging lately?"

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!? WE ARE SEIZING YOUR VESSEL AND YOUR CARGO!"

Teiwaz didn't hear them, but said anyway, "I am truly sorry about this." He lifted up the gadget he was working on and flipped a switch.

A sound rippled through the entire ship, across the passage way between the ships, and into the pirate ship.

Everyone in the immediate vicinity NOT wearing ear-plugs had blood exploding out of their ears and eyes, dead, while everyone else fell unconscious.

Teiwaz raised an eyebrow, pulled the plugs out of his ears, and nudged his pilot. His pilot removed his ear-plugs as well. "It would appear they have collapsed."

"Yeah…" His pilot mumbled, still laid out on the couch lazily.

**-Team Harbinger-**

**-Nearing the Kashyyyk system-**

It took a while for Starkiller to come to terms with what Kota wanted him to know. They discussed it indepth.

As Kota explained it, Nar Shadaa was a difficult planet for the Empire to control. Simply too crazy and rebellious in nature. He had struck a space station because the station acted as part of the blockading net around the planet.

"The Empire largely uses a strategy that involves 'nets'. Regions are blockaded, systems are blockaded, and this is both a trap and a power to be feared. Anything that sits, will starve and the net will slowly be woven tighter and tighter. But at the same time, the Empire WANTS you to try to move, to take on the blockade, to trip the net and get caught in it."

Kota explained further, "But the concept of a net against a fish also has a flaw. It requires an abundance of troops, and if one of the 'strings' were to be cut by a fish powerful enough to snap it, then the net loses strength. Not completely, but enough to give them breathing room."

"That is why you took the space station?" Starkiller asked.

Kota nodded. "I hit the space station to try to snap part of the 'net' the Empire had woven around the planet. A blockade, as said, requires either a Star Destroyer or six properly positioned lesser ships. If one of the ships is destroyed or removed, then the blockade has a hole."

They discussed it a few minutes further before Kota was content Starkiller understood the lesson. With that in mind, PROXY returned to hyperspace and they entered the Kashkyyyk star system.

Kota sat at his regular seat relaxing, and Starkiller entered the cockpit. He made sure to kick Kota's feet as he passed. "What are we dealing with PROXY?" Starkiller asked.

"We have one Imperial 2-Class Star Destroyer in orbit around Kashyyyk, Master."

Kota commented, "Not as bad as a 1-class, but still most likely has a hyperspace field set up."

"Does it see us?" Starkiller directed his question to PROXY.

"I cannot say, but probability leads me to say it has."

"Then can we fool them into thinking we're friendly?"

"We are not equipped to do that."

"We would need to have proper identities and a reason for being here, by Imperial regulation." Kota explained.

"Great!" Starkiller yelled in exasperation. He threw his hands up. He glared at Kota. "Now we have a full blockade to run… you know, I was a lot more confident about this before you shoved facts down my throat. We may be able to evade their ships and turbolasers, but we can't get back into hyperspace!"

"That's fine." Kota shrugged. "Remember, boy. Hyperspace will only let us leave. We aren't leaving yet. It won't keep us from getting there, provided your droid is a crack pilot."

Starkiller chewed it over and looked out the window. His confidence returned, but he was still a bit skeptical. Starkiller wasn't as good a pilot as Juno, he was a fighter. If he could fight the ships himself, he would have no doubt in his mind he could fight them. But he couldn't exactly fight from inside his ship. He had to rely on PROXY to do all the work.

As confident as he was in PROXY's abilities, he would have preferred using his own. Then he wouldn't have any doubts.

Kota offered a comforting thought. "If it helps, our ship will still confuse the mess out of them. Buy time and we will have the odds in our favor."

Starkiller breathed in, let the tension stir within him, he acknowledged the fear, he let it fuel him, and focus him. He breathed out. "Let's do this. I'll let you pick a place to drop Jowwarr and me off."

"Understood." PROXY announced. The droid set the ship's course for the planet. The internal gravity kept them from feeling the shift and turns unless they came close to a planet, so it went smoother than it looked outside the window.

Starkiller donned his Harbinger mask, his black armor, his robe, his dual lightsabers, and stood in position with Jowwarr. One rollercoaster ride later, accompanied by the sound of stray laser fire hitting their hull, and shifting gravity conflicting with the ship's internal gravity, PROXY announced they were in position in seconds. The cargo bay door slowly lowered. PROXY brought the ship to a halt, and Harbinger and Jowwarr jumped down the fifteen foot drop. Harbinger used the Force to help land, and Jowwarr rolled to deflect the impact. (4.5 meters can easily fracture your spine.)

"We're down." Harbinger announced into the built-in headset on his mask.

"Acknowledged." PROXY said. The ship picked up speed and flew away. Seconds later a pair of tie fighters fired on the ship, but Harbinger wasn't afraid. PROXY was more than a match for them and the ship had enough hull plating and shielding to take a torpedo.

Harbinger looked to Jowwarr and glanced him over. The Wookie was fine. The fall did nothing to him but make him a bit dirty.

Kota's voice appeared in his ear, "Alright boy, head into the forest and let's see what we can do. Avoid the fortress and the Wookies until we have proper intel. We'll be fine up here. Let us know if anything happens, otherwise, keep a regular ten minute checkup."

"Got it." He said. He motioned to Jowwarr, "After you."

The Wookie ran into the trees and Harbinger followed. The point in which they had dropped was more of a mountain peak. The forest was as high as mountains. The two of them had to climb down if they were to reach the surface level, and then they would be in the dark depths of Kashyyyk.

**-Leia Organa-**

**-Imperial Command, Kashyyyk-**

Leia looked out the window and set her eyes toward the space elevator in the distance.

There were many kinds of space elevators. Some were placed on the tallest mountains, and others were more along the lines of cannons than elevators. But this was a prototype. The Empire was as willing to create and test greater technologies as they were about suppressing the people, and the combination frightened her. There was no greater example than here.

The Wookies were a long standing ally of the Republic. Now they were tossed aside, scattered, enslaved because of their physical qualities alone. The Empire was also xenophobic… as evidenced by the ban on human slaves outside of Hutt territory, but alien slaves were allowed.

One such slave approached her. The Wookie was short, merely a child, and the child was forced to have freshly cut fur, a suit much too small, and carry a tray around like a waiter. Leia kept her back turned as best she could until the child approached her. It was not that she was disgusted with the Wookie, but the sight of him… in such a condition made her want to vomit or break someone's nose.

"Do you wish to refuse my hospitality, my dear?" Moff Sturn said from a distance.

Leia ignored him utterly, but turned her eyes on the slave, smiled, and showed appreciation for the champaign. She would show appreciation to the slave, but not to him.

They were at a party. Of all things Sturn wanted to do with his time it was throw a ball for nobles in nearby systems to come, see his exotics, and give him something to do with his ego. Leia was supposed to be mingling. She'd rather punch him in the face. It would bring a smile to her face to break one of his perfect teeth.

She had been thinking a lot lately about hitting him.

Oh look, a noble was poking a Wookie inside a cage. She didn't know the alien's name per say, but he was an adult and was a fiesty one. This amused the guests and made her feel sorry for him. It had to be infuriating to have the determination to fight back, but be unable to.

She wanted to hit the Moff again. It was barely two seconds since the last impulse and she had a new one incoming.

"Now, now. Why the cold shoulder?" The Moff asked. He walked to her side, but she kept her eyes straight ahead. "This party is in your honor."

"Really? Then why do I feel dishonored?" She said flatly. "Oh, it might be because the people at the party are bigots like you."

"My dear, I am no bigot. I adore other races."

"So long as the males sit in your cages, and the woman dance in your lap."

"Such harsh words. I quake to wonder what you could do with a scalpel. You should have learned medicine over law." He replied with faint amusement. He seemed to find it fun to test her patience at every waking moment. She wasn't so amused. She didn't refrain from showing him exactly what she thought of him. She wasn't going to mince words.

He was scum. Simple as that.

"I admit, my use for them is not the most efficient for their abilities or morale, but then what job isn't?"

"Don't bother trying to justify it. Its wasted on you."

He whistled. He didn't bristle, he didn't bite back, and he didn't learn. If he attacked back, she could use that because it showed she hit something. If he learned, then even better. But his cold indifference just made it all the more pathetic. He was a regular Imperial Governor. She couldn't be bothered with him.

"Very well, then I won't try to justify it in your… limited view. But do try to remember something." He leaned in close to her ear to whisper.

She wanted to punch him again, or recoil. His breathe made her want to vomit. He was entirely within her personal space. If she was in control, she would be decking him across the floor, placing sexual harassment charges, and moving on. But then, being a princess in the Empire taught her how to be in control of herself, even when she wasn't in control of the situation.

He whispered, "Your arrangement here is to keep your father in check. If the Emperor gets the slightest whim that your Mr. Organa is not turning over a new leaf, well… then his words on freedom may reach a few of our Wookie friends, inspire them to action, and well… as you know, all humans looks alike. Especially as you are officially here to help oversee the completion of the space elevator, the same one that enslaves them."

Basically they would arrange for her to be in the front lines of the next Wookie uprising. It was nothing she hadn't already been explained early on. And so far as the Wookie's were concerned, she was just as bad as the rest. Her name was on the papers that ran this operation, even if she had no authority. If the Wookies tried to lash back, she was a dispensable pawn, and she was a juicy target for them. She was quite literally surrounded on all sides.

"That's not news."

"No, but a wrinkle in this situation that no one realizes yet, is that the reports on your status come directly from me."

She tensed and struggled not to show it. She must have failed somehow, because he smirked and licked his lips.

That was something she hadn't realized. She had assumed it was from a more professional person here. A personal spy of Palpatines, a military officer, one of his Sith Guard, an Inquisitor, someone besides him. After all, there were several around here constantly.

This changed everything.

He was also smart. He knew she was able to put the pieces together easily enough. It may be an illusion, but it felt like his mouth was creeping ever so slightly closer to her ear. "So, you see. If I don't get what I want, you may find your father is put in a very difficult position."

She may be a trained princess, but there was a limit to her abilities as both a person and a woman. Her movement was small, nothing more than a heavy shoulder nudge to send him back a step, but it was enough to show he got to her.

He smirked widely and she knew she lost.

Best to make a tactical retreat and regroup. "If you excuse me, the party has made me weary." She turned and left without waiting for an answer.

"Certainly, my lady." He bowed, never letting her leave his sight.

Leia briskly returned to her quarters. It was spacious, yet entrapping. Privacy was an illusion. Safety was just as much an illusion. The only true privacy she had was within the confines of her mind, and even then, the Sith Acolyte that answered to the Moff could hear her surface thoughts.

Leia looked up at the camera and glared. Every fiber in her body wanted to scream, but she had a strong will. She wouldn't give him the pleasure of seeing the recording. It was bad enough he probably had enough vids of her changing clothes to have his own collection. She reached into her belongings and pulled out a book and a squeeze ball.

She had no illusions of the man and what he thought of her. He had two trophy wives already on different worlds. What was a third?

The squeeze ball spent the majority of the night being abused.


	16. S01 Ep16

**Note: I'm not dead, I am still writing. I am just balancing an actual novel, 3 fanfictions, RL, college, and gaming. :) **

**This story has to be slow paced as well to be done correctly. I can't just come up with random crap and say it works. This is designed to be intelligent and well thought out.**

* * *

_"If you have to look along the shaft of an arrow from the wrong end. If a man has you at his mercy, then hope he's an evil man. Because evil likes power and they want to see you in fear. They want you to know you are going to die. So they'll talk. They'll gloat. They'll put off the murder like another man will put off the end to a good cigar. So hope like hell he is an evil man, because a good man will kill with hardly a word. Because they know what must be done rather than how it makes them feel." -Anomyous_

* * *

**-Rahm Kota-**

**-Kashyyyk-**

Kota tapped the table to the beat of the clock.

Twenty seconds. Harbinger was late by twenty-two seconds.

Why?

Twenty-five…

What happened?

Twenty-seven…

Twenty-nine…

"This is Harbinger checking in."

Kota refused to respond.

"Kota?"

…

"Don't you dare make me say it!"

…

"I can't believe I have to actually say it… FINE!... Argh… Ninety-seven bottles of beer on the wall…"

"You're late, boy." Kota responded gruffly.

"Yeah, well. Ran across a stormtrooper patrol. Took care of them."

Kota winced. This is what he was afraid of. "You weren't supposed to attack!"

"I'm not attacking the fortress, old man! It was a patrol. We're at some kind of ravine, and even I would have had trouble going through without being noticed. Mind-control isn't my forte."

"Did they have time to alert the base?" Kota asked into the comm.

"They didn't."

"All the same, their commanders probably registered their vital's dropping."

"What?"

Kota truly wondered how little his protégé knew about modern tech. "Boy, the suits can monitor their vitals. Heart rate, broken bones, etcetera. Their commanders can monitor the status of the squads."

"… You're screwing with me."

Kota grew aggravated. "It's basic! It was used even in the clone wars!"

Whatever Kota heard sounded like Harbinger cursing. "Does that mean they know I'm here?"

"The technology can only tell you the health of the individual, and where they were on a map when their vitals stopped, but it won't tell anyone who did it unless you used specialized weaponry that make it obvious. The Imperials will assume it was a Wookie team, most likely. Perhaps trandoshen smugglers. Unless you were dumb enough to cut a guy in half with your lightsaber."

"Crap."

"Okay, take the body with you and dump it far away. Either way, get a move on. You don't want to be there when the Imp's come rolling in."

"Moving. I'll check back in thirty." The comm cut off.

* * *

**-Starkiller-**

**-Kashyyyk-**

Starkiller was getting annoyed.

He was an assassin, and assassins fit into one of two categories to him. Shadow or wrecking ball. The shadow type moved through areas unseen. The wrecking ball type left no cameras, no sensors, and no survivors. Either way the key was to not allow anyone to notice he was there. He disliked being a shadow. It annoyed him. He knew how to do it. He could do it easily. He had trained himself to do it.

The training through Vader involved enough food to last him a day, and telling him to last a month. Starkiller starved, rationed out his food, ate very stale and moldy bread, fueled himself with the Dark Side as much as he could, and waited. He spent entire days doing nothing but sitting on a metal ramp in darkness, unmoving, watching, anticipating when PROXY was being particularly lethal and looking for him. Finally, he did both. He starved himself while being chained to a small room in darkness for a month. He ate nibbles at a time by leaning down like a dog while his hands were pulled behind his back.

(It wasn't in isolation, though. PROXY was always nearby offering conversation. Vader taught Starkiller that all humans, Sith or not, go insane in absolute isolation. Vader pushed Starkiller hard enough that he experienced the beginning stages of it, the hallucinations, the voices, the touch of madness and lack of social grace, but that limited exposure only made him stronger both in the Dark Side and in self-discipline.)

Still didn't mean he found the idea of sitting in trees doing nothing but watching to be a good use of his time. Why sit here when he could be sneaking in and just grabbing the target? At the very least he should be canvasing it! He should be looking for alternative routes in and out. Through the roof, through a sewer, through a side door. Starkiller would even settle for penetrating solid stone to make a door of his own if it suited his purpose.

But no. The old man insisted he do NOTHING. Well, except checking back. Speaking of which. Starkiller checked his HUD and found the timer slowly reaching 0. "Ninety-seven bottles of beer on the wall." Starkiller broadcasted into the private channel.

"Hmm. Now you're making me thirsty." Was the response.

Starkiller felt an eye twitch. The annoying old man had the stupidest passwords… Although not surprising. The man was a drunkard. The only thing keeping Starkiller from finding him pathetic was his understanding of base warfare, and perhaps a first impression. Kota had been a lot more respectable when they met than now. Starkiller hoped the man would return to that one day. He would be easier to deal with and a hell of a lot less annoying.

"This is Harbinger checking in." He glanced around. "And I have to report a gigantic piece of NOTHING! It's quiet. This is not a good use of my time. I should be doing at least something productive instead of sitting in a tree. Jowwarr is fine too. Albeit less annoyed." The Wookie wasn't annoyed at all, if anything, the big guy was fascinated with the place and enjoying the quiet. Starkiller wouldn't have pegged him for the type to just sit back, pull up a holovid, grab a cold beer, and do absolutely nothing productive. That's Kota's department.

But then, this is his home, and from what Starkiller knows, Jowwarr was either taken from home or had never been here to begin with. So if he wants to enjoy the moment, fine. Still, Starkiller would have figured if that was the case he would be even MORE excited than Starkiller to get moving. Starkiller would have figured the Wookie would be a ball of nerves wanting to explore, to breathe in his homeworld, to find his people.

"Have any Stormtroopers or Wookie come by?"

"Nope. Nothing."

"Then your time hasn't been in vain, boy. After you killed that patrol, I would have expected you to see multiple squads. It is a tactical decision to check on things when there is a possible blunder and then to move outward."

Starkiller leaned forward and felt his annoyance disappear as he smiled. The man was right. This shows something. IT may not be what Starkiller wanted to see, but it was information all the same. "What can it mean?"

"Well, either the patrols do not have monitors on or don't check in on base, which is unlikely. Or the information of their death is being broadcasted back to base, and base isn't going to respond. My best guess is that they assume it to be a Wookie skirmish or a big predator."

Jowwarr tensed under the words. He growled quietly. "Will they lash back at my people?"

"Possibly if it picks up in frequency."

Jowwarr growled wordlessly. Starkiller eyed him a moment, cautiously, but the Wookie didn't say or do anything. Although judging from his tension, he wanted to. "We're going to return to scouting the area." Starkiller spoke into mouthpiece. "I'll make sure to be more stealthy."

"You do that. Remember, we are not on a timetable. We will take as long as we need to do this properly."

* * *

**-Rahm Kota-**

**-Somewhere in Kashyyyk-**

Kota leaned back from the terminal in thought.

He couldn't see a map or anything, but it was important for Harbinger to have a good feel for the boundaries and locations of the Imperial bases in the area. They didn't know where the girl was, they didn't know the defenses, they didn't know anything except the Empire was firmly in control and the Wookies were in the process of being enslaved and uprooted on a global scale.

In order to accomplish such a monumental task, the Empire would need dozens, if not hundreds, of bases across the planet. This was the tricky part. Mrs. Organa would be in a location that was a combination of many things. Secure, yet risky. Isolated, yet entrenched and allowing easy access. She was a prisoner, yet she wasn't.

The Imperial holonet gave a stupid amount of information. The Empire felt a need to brag about their glory and conquest, so the progress and tactical decisions of their victories were accessible to the public if you knew how to look. It revealed a lot. Kota knew the location of every unclassified base here, which areas were the most dangerous from 'Wookie Terrorists', and which areas were the most secure for the Empire's glory. There was even a massive PR project on a new technology being field tested called a space elevator, and it had the name of Leia Organa as a co-manager of the project.

Even knowing the location of every base, they needed to narrow it down. Logically, the first base to be assumed would, unfortunately, but the most dangerous. There was an Imperial fort stationed directly next to the space elevator, and it was smack dab in the middle of the most secured part of Imperial territory. It lied directly underneath the Star Destroyer. Kota wanted to avoid having the boy go there, it was too risky to start right off the bat, but he had a feeling. If he was a betting man, he would be putting money on it.

But this operation was also a tricky one.

Never mind the danger of the assumed base being the most secure of them all, from what Harbinger's findings were showing, the Imperial governor had a very lax approach to security. Kota was confident in the boy's ability to infiltrate a secure base, get a target, and get out. But a base with a laid back governor with a reputation for woman, exotic trophies, and throwing balls? The boy would probably not want to because it wouldn't feel worth his time to even try.

Like they say, some guys just aren't worth a bullet, but the biggest danger was two things.

The Star Destroyer.

And politics.

The Star Destroyer was obvious enough. The power to keep them from leaving with Mrs. Organa and could shoot nuke-flavored bolts with precision on Harbinger's location. Kota reasoned that the ship wouldn't fire on his own governor's mansion, so he wasn't afraid of it getting in their way once Harbinger was given the all clear. The problem was getting out.

Also, now that Kota thought about it… The Star Destroyer had not moved since they arrived. It had sent fighters after his shuttle, but it hadn't moved. It was not patrolling. It was staying perfectly stationary over one position.

In Kota's experience, that was very unusual. Star Destroyer's positioning was very important. Their presence alone was enough to shift a planet-size war, and a good portion of that reason was in where it was located. If the battleship had not moved in the time they have been here, there is a reason for it. And according to PROXY, it was staying positioned over one of the larger fortresses.

In addition, out of all of the fortresses, this one also included the experimental space elevator Kota's intel had heard about.

Out of the hundreds of bases here, that would be a good one to check first. There were too many coincidences.

And then there was politics. Again, the problem would be what the relapse would be after Mrs. Organa was pulled out.

To put it simply, Palpatine wouldn't be stupid and he had his personal attention on the Organa family. For Mr. Organa to be going around recklessly asking for help, and for his daughter to suddenly disappear and reappear… it would look like Mr. Organa hired someone to get her out and bring her home.

Palpatine literally had them in a corner.

Option A. If the Senator didn't change his tune, the girl would die.

Option B. If the Senator did change his tune, then Palpatine won.

Option C. If the Senator didn't change his tune, and the girl disappeared suddenly only to reappear home, it would look like the Senator had kidnapped her from the Emperor.

Option D. If the Senator did change his tune, and the girl disappeared suddenly only to reappear at home… Well, that would just be weird. Kota had no idea how that would go, but it would also be distinctly against Bail Organa's character and Palpatine would be skeptical and still have a wary eye on them. There would be a chance that Palpatine would smile and accept it, as it was politics after all, but Kota had the distinct impression that either Palpatine wouldn't care to just let the problem go easily or Organa wouldn't do it.

Palpatine had a clear goal in mind. He wanted Bail to stop being a goody-goody-two-shoes and sing to the beat of his Imperial march. Palpatine would always find another way to go after Organa… and then what?

Argh… it was getting too complex!

Kota's plan was to acquire Leia, sure, but with something in return. This rebellion had a chance with a person like Harbinger spearheading it. An army needed clients and sponsors, and all three would need results as both assurance of investment and morale. Harbinger was the key, he could bring results where no one else currently could. Kota tried and failed, but Harbinger succeeded.

But what was the point if they only received a few credits and victories? They would dry up too quickly. Kota needed Organa to be a sponsor, even in secret, and that was what Kota wanted to get out of this. Sure, he sympathized for the girl, he might even say he cared about her as a friend of her father, but he had to be practical and consider his men. He was running a business, so to speak.

Kota had no doubt in his old mind that Organa would jump at the chance to throw a few credits his way if it meant taking one step toward restoring the former Republic, but how was it possible with Palpatine breathing down the Senator's throat?

Kota grumbled and rubbed his face in exasperation. He was getting to old for this shit!

Truth be told, they could have been done by now. He could have told Harbinger to go in, get the girl, and they could try to make a run for it, damn the consequences. But a practical army, a practical general, had to consider all consequences… especially political. Warfare was only an extension of politics. You couldn't remove it… Even the lowliest riots are political on some level. This wasn't about getting a girl in distress, this was about long-term implications.

As such, this operation looked like it would take days. Days where Kota would be sitting around doing nothing but trying to figure out how to go about this correctly… how to find a politicial loophole they could jump through.

They needed information… They needed to know who the players on the board are before they could act.

It wasn't a plan to victory, but it would bring clarity. Kota straightened back up in his chair and hit the key to grab Harbinger. "Boy, you there?"

"Why the hell do I have to say the password and you don't?!" Harbinger demanded back indignantly. Kota smirked. He could practically see the steam coming out of his ears complete with a whistling sound.

"I have a mission for ya, do you want it or not." Kota leaned back and let the bait work on its own. Let the boy rage. Kota knew what he wanted and how to screw with him and turn him towards what he wanted. He knew how to push the boy's buttons. A part of him felt he was playing with fire, but he just didn't care. He had been resolved to die not that long ago, and to a degree it didn't change. He didn't care if he died or not, and he would go down smiling, laughing, drunk, and doing his best. Harbinger truly had nothing on him to fight him with, while Kota had all the cards in their little fights.

The seconds ticked by as Kota counted down. The boy was probably fuming.

3…

2…

1…

And.

"… I'm listening."

Bingo.

The former general smirked in self-victory. He really should take up gambling.

* * *

**-Starkiller-**

**-Imperial sector of Kashyyyk-**

Starkiller needed a ride. With the number of patrolling tie fighters in the sky high above, they would have to do. He had half a mind to just jump on one, pull the pilot out, and take control of the ship; but that was impractical. He would crash with a man-less fighter long before figuring out exactly how to fly it. Instead, he assigned Jowwarr to his own mission, as per Kota's request, while he himself jumped onto a fighter and took the non-lethal approach of clinging on to it from the back. Having the Force to enhance his grip came in handy. Starkiller could use the Force in many ways, and his personal favorite was physical enhancements, stealth methods, and control of a battlefield. Lightning was way too flashy for an assassin.

What bone-head Sith would he be if he used nothing but lightning? Please, Starkiller wasn't dumb.

His black cloak kept him concealed against the blackish surface of the fighter in the night air. A sensor might be able to pick him up, but Starkiller closed his eyes and waited patiently. The Force would show him if he was in danger, flying at over a hundred-miles-per-hour while holding on by his finger-tips notwithstanding.

Minutes went by. It was loud, very loud. Starkiller couldn't have his mask blur out the sound without the use of his hands and had to be forced to bear with it. The wind blew in his ears. Thankfully, the fighter itself was relatively quiet. It didn't have a loud engine. The high-pitched whistle coming from it was the sound of the wind passing by its solar panel wings. He closed his eyes and waited.

Eventually the fighter slowed and took a turn he did not like. He needed to be heading north. He dropped from its back plating and landed nimbly among the trees. "Damn, I'm stiff." He groaned. Holding on for so long against the wind chill made his fingers ache and numb.

Another day and a bunch of free-rides later, Starkiller dropped onto the roof of a building within the primary fortress. He scooted into the shadows and surveyed the area.

He had misjudged the Imperial Governor. This location was more defensible than he thought. It had a natural mountainous wall on two sides with high gates established between them. From the gate to here was mostly open space with a secondary wall around the inner-fortress and sniper towers all along it. There looked like there was a vehicle hanger within the inner-wall itself to allow vehicles to go out and take advantage of the open space, and there were a few bunkers just within the inner-wall. There was also one barracks attached to the Governor's mansion itself. The other side of the fortress had an ocean boundary to it. The ocean-side had a tower in the water, and Starkiller had a funny feeling about it.

The tower within the water was pulsing… It made the water ripple gently, but something about it concerned him. He would have to ask Kota later about it.

The Star Destoyer was just overhead and was an oppressive sight to behold in its length. It was both longer and wider than the fortress in its entirety. It was like being under a giant thick cloud. Despite its distance, Starkiller felt he could reach out and touch it.

A part of the Governor's mansion (if it was the Governor's mansion) extended over the water extravagantly and had its own private landing pad with a number of private shuttles on it. Judging from the flashing lights, gentle orchestral music, guards at attention, servants coming and going, fancy-clothed people, and dancing he could see within the windows, Starkiller would have to say there was a party going on.

It had to be the Governor's mansion.

"Damnit… Kota was right." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "He'll never let it go."

Starkiller rose, and stretched. He felt stiff from a day of riding on the back of fighters. He had rested during the day and ridden only at night to stay concealed. Not to mention that he couldn't just take one fighter here when the patrol's changed direction along their usual path, and he had to wait between them. If he had taken one straight here from the beginning, it would have taken two hours in total.

The waste of time was fairly annoying.

Starkiller finished his stretches and moved out.

As much as he despised Vader, there was one thing he couldn't but praise him for. Vader was thorough and allowed no weakness. As part of having no weakness, Starkiller had a large variety of skills he could use for a variety of situations, and being an assassin, he had a number for stealth, infiltration, and silent killing. Two skills in particular are worth noting.

Shadowmeld and Shadowstep, as Starkiller called them, was the ability that allowed him to both remove all light from himself while within a shadow and to teleport to another shadow he could see. The darker the shadow, the easier it was.

Nosebleed, while being a ridicules name, was named after the result of it rather than the method itself. Starkiller put his hands around a target's head and used the Force to squeeze the person's brain to mush from within their skull. It was lethal, silent, and left no visible wound except for a massive nosebleed.

What made this mission more difficult was kota's explicit instructions to not be seen and to not kill anyone. Starkiller needed to avoid causing alarm and raising security over a long period of time, as well as short. It might be fine over the course of this mission, but a person mission or a body found within the fortress would scare them into thinking rightly that there was an assassin, and then the ramifications would be disastrous.

Starkiller grit his teeth as he moved. Vader had always been demanding. No witnesses, he said. But for Vader, that meant kill anyone you wanted so long as there were no witnesses or proof. Kota though, was harsher and more demanding in what Starkiller had to accomplish. No witnesses, to Kota, means everyone had to live and no one could see him and there had to be no proof. Missing people included as proof. Starkiller wasn't happy, but he could see the logic behind Kota's explanation.

At last Starkiller made off found a list of the guests and their room numbers. He smiled as he read one name in particular. Leia Organa.

Bingo.

He had already found that there were cameras everywhere and they were based on sight. Not a problem. He found a map, found the room number Organa was in, and went outside. Going through the halls too much would increase his chances of being caught. Her room had a window.

Starkiller found the room in question from outside, and looked within. There was a woman on a bed reading by lamplight, and there was a large shadow emitted from it on the otherside of the room. Starkiller shadowstepped to it.

* * *

**-Moff Sturn-**

**-The Moff Mansion-**

The Moff Sturn was a man of refined taste and an exercised palate. He considered himself a kind of explorer. Despite the thousands of years of effort by the Galactic Republic, the galaxy was still largely unexplored. Between the pockets of Deep Space and the Outer Rim, it was estimated that only 5% of the galaxy was fully mapped out and explored.

The answer was simply progress. The Republic had lacked the desire to seek progress. There was too many red-tape. One could not do what was necessary to fill in the blanks and explore.

To that end, Sturn went out of his way to explore as much of the galaxy as he could. In all of its… exotic flavors and delicacies.

He stirred the wine around slowly in his glass. The pungent odor of it rose to meet his nostrils and he breathed in deeply. After having been salivated properly, he brought it to his lips, and took a sip. "Ah… Captain, have you ever tasted the wuju berry?"

"Can't say I have." A Stormtrooper responded. This Stormtrooper had special shoulder pads and a medal depicting his rank. The ranks among the Stormtroopers was unusual for most militaries as it was one of the many things remade by the Grand Moff. You started off as a squad member, then rose to squad leader over four others, then lead 100 men, then 300, then 500, then 1000, and so on. The highest rank among Stormtroopers was 100,000-man general, at which point you established your own battalion such as the 501st. This particular Stormtrooper was a 1000-man captain.

"I pity you." The Moff gazed into his cup with a letcherous grin. "The galaxy is so full of wonders. The galaxy was made to be enjoyed, and yet the Republic, for all its old vaunted glory, was held back by one simple thing. Care to take a guess what it was?"

Outside the window where they stood, the Wookie slaves continued to lug crates to and from the space elevator. A number of them were in the trees cutting. Others were mining or raking the soil for cropland.

"Corruption. Relying entirely on Jedi for diplomacy with no army." The soldier said robotically.

"An unwillingness to seek progress." The Moff answered.

The stormtrooper 'Java' was silent, but tilted his head slightly to the side curiously. He pondered that.

"Take this fruit, for instance." The Moff waved his glass around. "Sitting under the Republic's nose ever since Kashyyyk was brought into the fold, yet only NOW has it been found. It is a rare delicicy here, and the Republic spent too much effort attending to everyone's little whims to keep them happy. 'Don't take our medicine even though it may save millions of lives and we aren't using it.' 'Don't stick your tongue out at our stupidity.' 'Don't mine trillions worth in eridium because we have a 10-million year old temple in there no one has missed.' Blah blah blah. The excuses are endless and as varied as the cultures that demand them. The Republic never found this fruit because they never looked for it, because too much effort was put into politeness and respecting cultures that technically had everything to gain and nothing to lose from such… merciful terms."

The stormtrooper nodded.

"Now look at them." The Moff took a sip. "The Empire is stronger than ever. Our technological growth has skyrocketed, we have never been wealthier, our people are roaring praises in the streets, and our military makes the past golden eras seem paltry in comparison. Our borders are as secure as steel, business is booming, industry churns." He smiled widely. "It's a good day to live, wouldn't you say?"

"Begging your pardon, my lord, but you sound too much like a sales person for me to believe at face value." The Stormtrooper said simply.

The Moff laughed. "Perhaps, but then that is simply because these times are unbelievable."

He finished his glass and placed it on a tray. One of the fury things ran over and took it from his sight.

The Moff spent his time gazing out the window in pride. His personal trooper had little choice but to stay by his side until dismissed. The party was still ongoing just behind them, but the Moff had long since lost his patience for it. He loved partying, but he liked variety more. Partying every day was getting a bit… tedious. Perhaps he should change the theme of the party to freshen it up a bit next time?

A stormtrooper, a mere squad member, approached them and handed his general a note. Java nodded and looked it over. The Moff looked over at him out of the corner of his eye and noted how the man tensed ever so slightly.

"What?" He asked.

"Another three patrols have failed to return on schedule out in the untamed-zone."

The untamed-zone was far off towards the regions where the wild life was too dangerous to be controlled yet. There were pockets of Wookie resistance here and there, but they were little more than terrorist cells at this point. The Moff rolled his eyes at the sound of his captain giving out orders briskly to his soldier to return to the barracks with. "You worry too much. Its most likely a super-predator, again. Just throw a bomb at it and get it over with."

"Just doing my job sir."

"Yeah, well. It's annoying. Do it on a less festive night. Right now we are supposed to be having a good time and ending the night on a good note, let's not add work to it."

* * *

**-Leia Organa-**

**-The Moff Mansion-**

Leia didn't show anything, but somewhere deep down she knew… someone was in the room. She couldn't hear him. She couldn't see him. She didn't know why, but there was the unmistakable presence of someone. Did the Moff send a spy in? How did the man get in here?

Leia did not portay a single sign she knew, or perhaps assumed, someone was there. She reached up, tucked a strand of hair back behind her ears, and tapped her datapad to move to the next page. She showed nothing, but she was scared. 'Sturn has made you paranoid…' she chastised herself. 'Don't let the bastard win and let him do this to you.'

The silence loomed on through the night, broken only by the occassional tap of her finger and the shift of the camera on the wall changing position.

"Don't be scared." A faint whisper arose from the shadows. Leia about jumped out of her skin and covered it up by coughing.

"I'm a friend." The whisper continued. "Does the camera pick up voice?"

No, it didn't. But it did pick up mouth movement. Leia tilted her head back, popped a kink in her neck, layed her datapad down on the bed by her side, rose up, stretched, and walked to the window. So, this person didn't know how the security in her room worked? Clearly not part of the security detail here. Curious to see what her visitor would do, she humored him. "No." She answered, back to the camera.

Not like she could be in any worse of a situation. She considered her options. She doubted Palpatine had sent an assassin or bounty hunter after her. Her father was starting to cooperate and she was a willing hostage. Just today there had been a vote, and the Organa's had failed to vote despite the importance of the bill passed.

No Wookie could have come into her room.

Leia simply had no idea what to make of this. Not like Palpatine had any true rivals, and she was his personal hostage. This person was clearly not with them since he went without going through proper channels to get to her.

"Good." The voice raised volume slightly. Now Leia could tell it was highly modulated. She couldn't tell if the person was male, female, robotic, or non-human at all. It could be a device left here to leave messages for all she knew. "Have you been treated well?"

"Well enough. Who are you?"

"Let's just say I am here on behalf of a mutual friend. Don't react, but I am here to rescue you."

It was hard not to react. "Stupid." She responded.

The intruder was silent for a moment. She smirked, figuring he didn't expect her to call him out on it. "I'm not the only hostage here. My father is just as much a hostage as I am, only in a different way. If I do something, they will either kill me or do something to him, and I won't allow that." She straightened her back. "I appreciate it, and I realize you have gone through a lot of trouble, but I must decline."

"That is not an option. You will be rescued, whether you like it or not, but I am willing to compromise."

She tried looking out of the corner of her eye, but the person was somehow hiding perfectly in the shadow. She couldn't even get an idea of his dimensions. It was like having a ghost talking to her. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well, the ideal situation would be me knocking you out, throwing you over my shoulder, and getting your butt out of here, but with the Star Destroyer, I may find it difficult."

"Yeah, you got yourself a bit stuck didn't you?" She chuckled.

"I won't deny it." The modulated chuckled as well, then turned serious. "All the same. This will take time. We need to find a way to get you out of here without causing everything around us to blow up, figuratively and literally. Our mutual friend agrees with you, just pulling you out has too many ramifications. We need to find a way, and having you on board will make things easier."

"I will only cooperate if the solution keeps my father out of danger." Leia said firmly.

"Done. Now the only question is how. I'm not a politician."

"Ironic for a man hiding in the shadows most likely with a dagger pointed at my back." Leia responded sarcastically.

Again, the modulated voice chuckled weakly. "I get it. You have a sharp tongue."

Leia gazed out the window and thought deeply. Already she could feel her brain churning out political scenarios. None were pretty. "Will you be able to return?"

"Yes."

She resisted the urge to nod. "Okay. Since you need the help of little 'o me to figure out a politicial solution, I'll think something up. Is there a way I can contact you?"

"Err, no. Not without setting off alarms. Don't worry about contacting me. I'll be in touch in a few days."

"Alright. Before you leave, I have only two questions. What is your name and who sent you? You still haven't given me a proper answer."

There was a deep silence.

"Harbinger. And well, let's say it's a mission that has been passed down from your father."

So her father sent the mysterious shadow. That sent both a wave of trust and distrust through her. On one hand, he was here on behalf of her father. On the other hand, that answer was way too easy to use to manipulate her. It made her skeptical. She didn't deny her father loved her dearly and fretted over her every moment she was in this prison, but he wasn't stupid enough to incur the wrath of Palpatine on all of them.

Harbinger.

"Not much of a name." She said. There was no response. She looked over her shoulder and entered the shadow. She found nothing. Had she been hearing things? No. She could no longer feel the person's presence.


	17. S01 Ep17

**Note: Sorry it took so long to update. This is not because of how busy I have been (which has been busy), but rather because I have not had a clear idea of where to go. As stated, this story requires very careful pacing and planning to do properly as it leans on the intellectual side of things.**

**For a while we will be focusing on Team Specter along with Team Harbinger. The reason will be revealed in the coming chapters.**

* * *

"_Love has its place, as does hate. Peace has its place, as does war. Mercy has its place, as do cruelty and revenge._" -Meir Kahane

* * *

**-Falon Grey-**

**-Homebase-**

Falon Grey studied the data closely. The slightest mistake in his calculations would result in the death of one of his squads. The slightest detail could also be a boon for them. Thankfully, he had assembled a small team for his private use in analyzing data. It was a team of four and they helped him manage his teams.

The small army, being only in the hundreds, was split up massively. Teams were all over the galaxy gathering information, implanting themselves, recruiting in secret, finding new bases, establishing contacts with various dealers for food, weapons, ammo, ships, whatever was needed. He had teams in the base scouring the Holonet for information they could use in the same means as well as movements of the Empire. The Empire was broadcasting information too much for its own good, and that was a great boon for him.

Despite it all though, progress would be slow, mostly in regards to supplies, munitions, and ships. You need something of value to buy supplies, munitions, and ships, or you needed skill to steal them. In both regards their army was lacking. Harbinger was the only one who could do much about them so far, but Falon had sent out other teams as well. Namely in the form of the five 'Ethereal Being' teams

Which brought Falon back to thinking about their progress.

Team 1: Ghost under Kanan Jarrus had established a position on Mandalore. Falon instructed them to lay low, be legal as workers in a pub, and keep an eye out for anything of importance. For now Ghost needed to lay low and get a feel for the nation.

Falon considered Mandalore to be a very high priority planet with a high risk factor, yet equally great reward. Mandalore was the unofficial leader in a movement of neutrality during the Clone Wars. Their military might was enough to secure themselves that position, and the diplomacy of her leader was equally strong. Mandalore was moving towards a peaceful regime away from its blood-soaked history.

Falon hoped they would still hold on to a part of their culture, as without the basic core parts they would hardly be Mandalorians.

Somehow, though, in a twist of politics, Mandalore went through five leaders in the span of months in the end of the Clone Wars. The Mistress was dethroned by rebels under the Confederacy, then reclaimed it, then terrorists removed her, who were taken over by a branch of their own terrorist group, who were removed by Palpatine's personal army and in the wake of the Empire… Palpatine didn't let go. Mandalore was considered one of the Empire's conquests. One would even go so far as to say Mandalore could become a Core World for the Empire except there was too strong of an anti-Empire presence.

Mandalorians were incredibly patriotic.

In turn, the Empire held the systems in a grip tighter than any other Falon knew. There were Class-A ships by the dozens. There were fortresses and waypoints everywhere and the system was considered one of the Empire's primary 'hopping points' out towards the outer rim. It was a detour. A long one. But the Empire passed so many ships through the system that they wanted to show that they were going to own Mandalore, and there was nothing they could do about it.

Team 2: Specter under Orga. They had been sent to Nar Shadaa. Team 4 was sent as well, but for a different reason. Falon sent Specter to look into the research classified as 'Whiskers'. All Falon knew was that it related to the newly dubbed Bellona and Mars children. Orga was not a spy. He wasn't stealthy. The guy had a boyish charm, but then, Falon didn't send him to do the work. Falon knew Mars and Bellona would be able to handle the work. Orga was more of a babysitter or big brother.

If their research into 'Whiskers' would produce nothing, then he had sent them into a warzone for nothing, and he dearly hoped that wasn't the case.

Team 3: Phantom under Juno, was a mission under more progress than the others thus far. Juno seemed well verse in understanding the ins and outs of a shipyard, and had secured herself a position where she would be secret from the Empire's eyes yet be able to see what was going on and move as needed. Falon was not entirely sure what her mission would ultimately be.

Fact was, they needed ships.

But the problem was that it was too much of a risk to just have her steal ships.

Falon had a few ideas, so he had her sit on the back burner gathering information and worming her way in. If need be she would be there for months before actually making any proper moves, but from the pace the other teams were moving at, Falon needed to be sure to have her moving at a proper pace as well. She was in a position that could benefit other teams, and she needed to be able to move, act, and get results at a moment's notice if need be.

Team 4: Wraith under Barborotas was sent on a mission that felt as dangerous as the name of the team. Wraith was sent to Nar Shadaa to stir up trouble.

Simply put, the Empire was squeezing down on Nar Shadaa. The Grand Moff was using a practical and efficent strategy to isolate every part of Nar Shadaa from each other, pick them off one by one, and take control one piece at a time. Falon was not into the idea of stirring up war that other factions would be fighting, but he also didn't want the innocents on Nar Shadaa to suffer. In his eyes, he had too many people on Nar Shadaa he had helped in the past months. He couldn't just abandon them.

Wraith was sent to help the local gangs break the Imperial net that was slowly squeezing down on them. It wasn't victory, but it would buy them time. In the process, Falon hoped they could also obtain a good number of recruits. The idea of recruiting gangs into the army did not sit well with him, but so long as they followed the rules set by his master, he couldn't argue.

If Wraith proved particularly good in gathering gangs and establishing a secure position, then Falon considered moving Specter into a position to assist them, and to request for Harbinger to make a return to Nar Shadaa to help create a power base for their rebellion. It wouldn't act as a secret base but it would be a good beachhead from which they could hurt the Empire.

The Grand Moffs, and Palpatine, were not so stupid as to bombard a planet as populated and with as much GAP as Nar Shadaa. It would bring down a sizable chunk of the galactic market. Palpatine may be evil and have no right to his throne, but Falon had to admit at least thing. The guy knew what worked. Now if only so much of the economy was not brought in by conquest, slavery, razing former allies along with new enemies into ruins, and stealing everything of value.

Team 5: Shade under Teiwaz, was of Falon's more immediate concern. They had successfully stolen a pirate ship and requested a meeting with the pirate lord in return for him getting everything back. Falon had instructed Teiwaz to not take a single thing, not even a glass of water.

The pirate lord had agreed to talk. Falon had gained his attention. The pirate lord had spoken that he was surprised they were just giving everything back just to talk. He thinks Falon desperate. Nah, Falon wasn't desperate. He just wanted to get his attention.

There was a problem though. It was much too soon. Falon had hoped they would have better weapons, at least one decent ship, and more men before talking to these pirates. Then they could appear on equal terms and have a respectable strength. As it stood, they looked weak and were easy pickings if the pirates ever found their base.

Best thing to be done is bide time until Harbinger could return and be a show of strength against these pirates so they could be seen as equals rather than prey. But then… who knows how long that would take.

Falon sighed and ran his hands through his hair. Hopefully Kota and Harbinger were having an easier time.

* * *

**-Starkiller-**

**-Back with Kota-**

"What is this?"

"What does it look like?" Starkiller replied. He carried two crates onto the ship via the Force and dropped them into their cargo hold.

"No, I can't. So what did you just bring?" Kota asked. He stood at the door with his arms looped together.

"Rations, weapons, and I actually don't know. I found the boxes at the camp of a trooper squad I took out. I figured we could use it."

"And you didn't think to check for, I don't know, a tracker that can lead them straight to us?"

Starkiller glared up at him and rolled his eyes. "I'm not stupid. What random soldier would have their boxes set to have a tracker going 24/7? I'm a good assassin. They still don't know I'm here."

"No, but they are figuring out that their soldiers are being picked off more than usual. Telling you to lay low does not mean pick fights with stray dogs."

"Whatever." Starkiller shoved the old man aside and entered the kitchen. He hadn't bathed in a week. He stuck his head in the fridge and looked for something edible.

"I'm serious," Kota pressed. "We need to lay low, get a feel for the players, what they can do, and strike appropriately. Not raise suspicion."

"I get that! But I'm bored! We have been waiting for a week for Jowwarr to get back with us, and I can't just sit in trees for days on end! If I sat in a tree any longer, I would start making a nest and laying eggs." Starkiller found a can of soda, popped the lid, and took his first sip. "Now what did you call me back for?"

"Jowwarr has an update for us."

Starkiller could only stare at the old man, and in hindsight realized he had made the soda explode in his hand. The old man could not possibly be serious. "THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THAT EARLIER!"

Kota shook his head in exasperation. "I was on a different point that was still valid, and you are a damn argumentative teenager. Get something to eat and meet me at the holoterminal."

Starkiller glared at the old man as he left and growled. The man was pressing on his nerves. At times it seemed he was doing it on purpose. Starkiller saw that Kota was fully sober and was acting like a proper general, for the moment that he had something to focus on, which Starkiller respected more than his drunk side, but DAMN dealing with the Jedi was like shoving a pinecone up his ass.

Starkiller shoved an old sandwich in his mouth and slammed the door. He entered the lounge to find everyone assembled and the holoprojector already displaying a pair of Wookies. He recognozed one as Jowwarr with his dual-shields on his back. It almost makes him look like a furry beetle. The other Wookie is covered in ornaments, has a fancy headpiece, a couple of straps with grenades and ammo looped across his chest, and a massive rifle on his hip. The rifle would be too big for a normal person, but on this massive creature's hip it looks like a large pistol. The guy is bigger than Jowwarr, and he thought Jowwarr is big to begin with. Either Jowwarr is small by Wookie standards, or this Wookie just plain massive.

HeI slipped his Harbinger mask on and put himself in character.

"Jowwarr?" I ask. "Who is this?"

Jowwarr puts his hand up toward his furball friend in a gesture of 'hold on', and says, "May I introduce Chief Attichitcuk, chief of the Wookie tribes remaining on Kashyyyk."

Kota steps forward. "Chief, I am former General Jedi Master Rahm Kota. This is my associate, Harbinger." Harbinger nodded in silent greeting. "I was not aware we would be meeting so soon, or even that you were still alive."

The Chief replied, "Your Empire has kept my existence a secret. It would be embarrassing for them to admit they could not catch me in the invasion."

"Truly. Now, I do not mean to be rude, but I perhaps we could be enlightened as to what the nature of this transmission is? Do understand, all we were told is that our friend said he had an update on his mission."

The chief nodded in understanding. "Your friend, Jowwarr, has explained to me his purpose in establishing contact with key players in the conflict, and so I have requested this meeting. It is to my understanding that you have a part to play? I wish to know what your intentions are toward us and how we might benefit each other."

Harbinger watched the dialogue in mute thought. He understood what was being said. Beyond the polite formality was a simple understanding of greed and desire. The Chief didn't know who they were, but recognized their capability to get through the blockade. He undeniably wanted to take advantage of them for his own ends. He didn't care about them. He saw a potential tool like any other politician or general did. It was the same view Harbinger was finding himself having to possess.

Although the idea of taking advantage of it via a trade sounded practical, if overly polite.

Harbinger stayed silent, allowing the dialogue to go on without his input. It was the persona of Harbinger to be silent, say only what was necessary, and to let Kota be his mouthpiece unless he wanted to step in. Harbinger saw no reason to. Dealing with politics was Kota's area of understanding. Harbinger had base understanding from Starkiller's time in Vader's tutelage, but Kota had vastly more experience.

"It is not permissible that I reveal our client, but we are here to free a prisoner of the Empire."

"Mercenaries, then?"

Kota didn't answer at first, merely smiled. "Mercenary has too much of a neutral connotation. We are-"

"Common enemies of the Empire." Harbinger spoke up.

Kota turned silent and subtly tilted his head toward the teenager in armored robes. To the average viewer, he looked like a normal man hidden in layers of black behind a featureless reflective-mask.

Harbinger continued, "I understand some basics of politics and how one speaks as to subtely probe for information, avoid revealing anything, and yet saying both everything and nothing with many words. However, I am a simple man. I see no reason to hide what intentions, though I hide my face. My enemy is the Empire. I seek opportunities to strike at them, and our mission here is one such strike. Allow me to be blunt and say that your conflict here is not my conflict. It is yours. It is your life on the line. Yet, at the same time, we can benefit each other."

The chief looked at him in silence a long moment, before growling, "I will consider your words."

The transmission ended and Kota turned on Starkiller while he pulled his mask off. "I thought we agreed I would handle talks!"

"You were taking forever." Starkiller replied curtley. "If you will be doing it in my stead, then remember I am not the Republic. I care little for political correctness."

"That much is obvious! You all but said that the lives lost in the invasion meant nothing to you!"

Starkiller laughed. "That is not what I said."

"Then you know nothing about politics!"

"No." Starkiller stopped laughing and looked at him seriously. "I know some about politics, but there is difference between politics and saying a lot without saying anything. Politics is just a way of evading the truth. I don't plan to hide what I want. I want us to be very open about that. Truth is truth. Yes is yes. No is no. Let's keep it at that."

"The galaxy is not so black and white! People are grey, and going in stomping on toes will get you nowhere!"

"So you mean to say there is no definitive line to be crossed? There is no standard for what truth is that we can agree on and understand?"

"There is, but who are YOU to say what it is!" Kota shoved a finger in his face.

Starkiller stared at the man. Kota was seething. The sheer level of anger coming off him made him pant and sweat and shake. Starkiller realized he might have truly crossed a line here. "My… apologies. I did not mean to insuiate you cannot do your job. I will be more careful in the future."

Kota lowered his finger and sighed. "No… I know what you mean. You may not have the right to say what reality is, but being honest and upfront about our intentions is apparently something you want. Such a brash way of speaking has it's place, boy, but politics is a world of its own. War may be an extension of politics, but every council has a war of its own kind within its words… Even honesty has no power at times."

Starkiller asked, "What do you mean?"

Kota sighed and considered it a moment. "Okay… I have a story for you that will explain a bit. Come."

Kota and Starkiller returned to the lounge room and Kota sat down. He took a minute to recall it. "Long ago… there was a king, and yes this is historically documented. I don't remember names… but there was an assassination attempt on the king. It failed. The king had a supreme chancellor, a man who was second to him, and everyone knew the chancellor had orchestrated it. The chancellor entered the king's throne room of his own accord, without permission, and before the king, the council, and the camera, openly said he had hired the assassins."

"Bet he got his butt handed to him." Starkiller commented.

"No." Kota shook his head. "That's the thing. He didn't. The king who had been nearly assassinated, knowing his chancellor was the cause, and knowing that his chancellor openly admitted to it, laughed and told him to stop joking. He made it out to be a joke, a lie."

"A-are you serious!" Starkiller exclaimed. "I'd have butchered the bastard!"

"That's the power of politics, boy, of power. The chancellor had put the king in a corner. If the king acknowledged it, the truth in it, then he would have publically made himself and his chancellor as enemies. It would have brought civil war… because the Chancellor held more power in the kingdom than her own king. He didn't have right of king, the authority, the almost sacred position placed upon him, but he had something that was just as strong. Power, and knew how to use it politically."

Kota continued, "The account showed that because of that moment, the chancellor was never attached to the assassination attempt, and all words otherwise were seen merely as a continuation of an internal joke between them."

Starkiller was silent.

"Words are a powerful thing, boy."

Starkiller put down his mask and looked out the window. It appeared he had much to learn, yet, he knew he could do so much as it was.

As if he could read his mind, Kota said, "Patience, boy. Experience is a bitter teacher, but it is the best one. I'm sure even your former master had his share of lumps."

Starkiller blinked in surprise and stared at the old blind Jedi. That… That was a thought he had never had before. Vader was a difficult teacher and taught in much the same way, with hard experience. Yet the idea that Vader had his moments where he was taught the hard way… Starkiller had not considered it. On one hand it was humbling to think that his former father-figure, his former master, had possibly made mistakes and had his share of failures. On the other, it helped make Vader seem so much more… human. Vulnerable. Killable. Capable of still making mistakes.

"Then how are we going to get Mrs. Organa out in a way that will satisfy her father?" Starkiller asked. "Have you come to any ideas?"

Kota sighed deeply and seemed as troubled as Starkiller felt. "I have one idea, but I doubt the girl will go for it. In addition, to make it work, we will need the mutual cooperation of Attichitcuk and Mrs. Organa."

"They're on opposite sides of the board here. That won't work." Starkiller replied.

"Believe it or not, that is both a problem and the solution. The best way to win is to control all the pieces, so if we can control both sides, then we can bring a perfect result. The problem is just getting Mrs. Organa in a position to be in control like we want. The Moff is the one in charge."

Starkiller felt the inkling of a plan in that. "Explain."

Kota was silent a moment. "Mrs. Organa is put in a position of being a hostage. She is on a world where there are common rebellions by the locals, and with her name second to the Moff, she would easily be a target. All they have to do is dump her in the way of a riot and the Wookies would do Palpatine's work for him. She has no true control because the Moff knows what her position is and won't let her do anything or will supersede all of her commands. She knows what her position is and so won't bother trying. Palpatine knows her position since he put her here. And Bail Organa knows her position as he hired us. We know her position, so we can manipulate the situation. The ONLY one who doesn't know is Attichitcuk."

Kota tapped the table in thought. "If we can get Attichitcuk's cooperation, and manage to suplant the Moff in some way, then all power will fall on her. We can use Palpatine's own trap against him. Your venture to meet her tells me she will cooperate under a condition that suits her. If we can get Attichitcuk to cooperate and coordinate with both us and her, then we can influence the situation to meet a result that will benefit everyone. We just need to figure out what they both want. For us, it would simply be that we get her off the planet after she creates a window of opportunity. Perhaps pretend to kidnap her as next in line. There are options and we can figure them out later."

Starkiller grew excited. That was good. He had no idea to use the situation to their advantage like this! Starkiller thanked the Force he had recruited Kota. Sometimes the old man was good for something. And this was something he could do. This was a solution he could take control of instead of just sitting around. Starkiller was itching to move as it was, and this idea just made him antsy. "So I kill Sturn?" Starkiller asked.

Kota shook his head much to Starkiller's disappointment. "That is the problem. Mrs. Organa will not go for it, neither will Bail. They do not like the Empire as a whole, least of all Palpatine, but they would not want the infrastructure of the nation to be damaged. Too many civilians would be hurt, and they actually are very vocal about giving stormtroopers rights, so they are seen as being people too. That and they're just the yellow-belly politician types that don't want people to die when possible. If they find out you killed the Moff to get her out they would be very unhappy clients."

Starkiller grumbled. "That will mean they will be unhappy later when we do openly rebel and start killing Imperial targets."

Kota nodded. "Let's hope they stick with us later. For now, it's better overall to avoid killing Moffs. Less attention and more loyalty earned from the Organa family." Kota pointed towards Starkiller, "Head back to meet her and explain the basics of my plan. We want to supplant him and put her in power. I will get Attichitcuk on our side. See what our lady friend has to say, what intel she can provide, if she has ulterior plans. Etc etc."

"Understood." Starkiller rose, placed his mask of the Harbinger back on his face, and headed out.

* * *

**-Team Spectre: Orga, Bellona, Mars-**

**-Nar Shadaa-**

Orga side-stepped the blow of a thug and countered with an elbow to the throat. He felt a slight shift in the guy's neck on impact, most likely it knocking the joints of his neck out of place and sending him into paralyzing pain. The man gasped in pain and shortage of breathe. He would most likely have extreme difficulty breathing properly until his neck was snapped back in place.

Bellona swerved and weaved between two other thugs as easily as though she was playing hop-skotch. She brought up her foot into the first guy's crotch with a loud 'HIYA!', sending him to his knees at eye-level to her. She inserted her fingers into his nose and drove his face into a trash-bin.

The second one tried to kick her, but she ducked under it and punched the other leg that was keeping him balanced in the joint between his knee-cap and his shin. The sudden bending of the only leg keeping him up caused him to fall on his butt in an awkward position. Orga hit him in the head with a pipe and he fell.

"Good job." Orga congrulated her. She shined under his praise. Bellona smiled widely in victory and put her hand up in a 'V' sign. Orga turned to the thugs and muttered, "Bastards can't even pick on men their own size. They have to go after a girl."

"It's okay! There are other girls they can pick on!"

"That's… What?" Orga wasn't sure how to respond. "Anyway, let's get back to the shop."

"Okay!" Bellona took his hand and they returned to the restaurant they were staying at. The first floor was a shop and the second floor was an apartment. Orga knew the young woman who ran the shop way back and was able to rent a room for the three of them cheap. It didn't hurt that Bellona had a natural charm that Orga used to his full advantage.

Orga felt the world slow down a bit as the shop came in sight. The windows were broken inward. He ran to the shop worriedly. Bellona ran in without sharing his concern. "HEY SHEIL!" Bellona ran in, between a couple of stormtroopers, and up to the shopowner for the usual hug. Sheil, nice girl, hugged her back and checked her over. Orga stopped in the door at the sight of stormtroopers. The shop was also empty, devoid of its usual customers.

"Uh… Sheil. What's up?" Orga wondered.

The stormtroopers turned to look at him and briefly returned their attention back to the woman. "Ma'am, is he with you?"

"Yeah, he is renting a guest room upstairs."

They nodded at that. Orga felt his trepidation rise, esspecially as they walked up to him. "Sir, you should be aware this neighborhood is unsafe, and so if you have any further problems, please do not refrain from calling us. We will be increasing our patrol in this area." The one in charge nodded. "Have a nice day."

"Uh…" Orga was clueless.

The stormtroopers walked out, and Orga turned his freaked out attention on his friend. "What just happened? Did they give you trouble?"

Sheil sighed and sent Bellona on her way upstairs before heading back behind the counter. "No, actually they were here to help." Orga looked at her like she was insane. "It's true. With the Empire clamping down on gangs in the area, they are becoming more desperate. A couple jerks shot up the windows and had me at gun-point demanding money."

"What?!" Orga yelled. He felt he should have stayed rather than be out looking for information with Bellona.

Sheil put a hand out to stop him. "Its fine. One moment they had me at gun-point, the next moment they were dead. Stormtroopers have freakish accuracy…" She shuddered. "The soldiers actually were on patrol and were here to help. They made sure I was okay, they put me in contact with some Imperial insurance companies and lawyers to help with anything I might need, did a basic medical checkup to see if I would need a doctor or if I was injured, checked out the area for more, and simply stayed until you arrived. I told them my 'boyfriend' would be home soon."

Orga felt his face heatup under being called boyfriend, but also his amazement rise over what they did. "But they're Imperial stormtroopers! They aren't charity workers! That makes no sense."

She shrugged, "Doesn't make sense to me either. I don't like 'em as far as I can throw 'em, but that is what they did. For what it's worth, I do appreciate it."

Orga looked out the door to where the stormtroopers went, as though he could see them from here and be wary. "I don't like it."

"I realize you don't like 'em, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't appreciate the nice things they do. Even you are a gentlemen at times."

"Hey!" He snapped. She stuck her tongue out.

Her face turned serious, "With that said, why does Bellona have a bruise on her arm?"

Orga sighed, not wanting to explain, but was a sucker for woman in general. "We ran into some trouble. You're right. The gangs are desperate. Don't worry, she isn't hurt. If anything…" He laughed. "You should see what she did to them! They will go back and say they were beaten up by one guy before they admit a little girl kicked their ass!"

"Its not a laughing matter!" She barked.

He only laughed harder. "Yes, it is! She whooped their hides even faster than I did! I swear… she is one of the last people even I would want to fight, and you know where I grew up."

"Yeah… I know." She looked at him warily. She turned her attention to the windows. "I should probably get in touch with someone to fix the windows… and put up some reflective surfacing. (A good reflective surface will stop weaker laser bolts. Won't work on anything military grade.) Won't be cheap though." She sighed. "The customers were nice and sympathetic, giving extra tips for my trouble and congratulating me on my bravery and whatever, but fled under the watchful eye of the stormtroopers. I doubt I will be getting much business for a few days."

"You'll be fine." Orga patted her shoulder before heading up. His smile immediately dropped to a frown. He had some things to consider.

He entered the apartment to find Bellona with Mars, her brother, around a holodisk. Mars had a part of it up playing a comedy for her while he worked to the side.

"Did she bring you up to date on what we found?" Orga asked.

"She did." Mars reported.

"Good." Orga looked back for Sheil. He could hear her downstairs. "Things are odd. The stormtroopers here were helping her."

"I heard everything." Mars stated. The boy continued typing. "I am already writing up a report for Etheal Being of all that we have found so far."

"Ah, okay. Good." Orga sat by him awkwardly.

Damn, both of the kids were making him look bad. With the boy being smarter than him and keeping ontop of his work while the girl generally kicked ass and became everyone's best friend instantly, Orga didn't amount to much. Then again, Falon did say he would amount to little more than a babysitter.

Orga looked over Mar's report as he typed. As expected, it was gramatically correct, easy to read, and had a good summary before getting into the more technical junk. Mars sent it out via a private channel and they waited.

Long story short they had decided the best way to go about figuring out what 'Whiskers' was would be to backtrack their past. The kids were originally rescued up from the Hutt's service by Falon, and Mars had a perfect memory of who owned them. They were able to backtrack it that the Hutts had moved Mars and Bellona around like trophies or 'goods' to be traded. They had not yet followed the crumbs back far enough to get anything else yet.

In addition, they had been keeping track of the local war. As Etheral Being expected, the gangs were becoming desperate. The Grand Moff was squeezing the life out of them, and the gangs were like choked men. Choked men thrash around and struggle before dieing. In the same way, the gangs were backlashing at everything they could to survive, which mostly comprised of weaker targets: civilians.

Mar's report included information now that the Empire was reaching its hand out to civilians to help them. Orga couldn't understand why, but he had a funny feeling about it.

The civilians were hurting in the sense that the Empire was choking them as well, but doing it less painfully. All people were required to have a license and go through screening at checkpoints. Anyone without a license was arrested and processed. Orga hadn't heard about people disappearing en masse, but then the Empire was also having a firm control over the airwaves. The regions were isolated.

There was also no trade except through extremely strict Imperial checkpoints, in which every box was tagged with a tracker. It was ridicules. Prices would be skyrocketing, but the Empire was enforcing a policy that prices stayed much the same, which was helping keep the people from rioting despite the shop owners being lowstocked.

The last thing Orga reported (or rather Mars) was the growing number of rumored people called Dogtags. They were regular people with inhuman strength, agility, and speed. The only thing in common was that they had specially marked dogtags. A bit of an odd thing to hear about, and Orga speculated it was just rumor. In times of war all kinds of things are said by people.

"Etheral Being has responded." Mars reported.

Orga looked over from the window as Mars pulled it up. "It reads, 'See how far the rabbit hole goes. Keep me up to date. I am sending you your allowance now.'"

"Pft." Orga scoffed. "Same thing as always."

"Not like there is anything else that needs to be said. We have yet to reach a major impasse in our quest."

"Perhaps, but it would be nice to get something like 'Good job!'." Orga complained.

"Yeah!" Bellona agreed loudly, not really understanding more than what was immediately said. "How rude!"

Mars closed the holodisc and Bellona took it to their room. Orga returned downstairs to help Sheil with the shop. It would be another long period of days. Orga reminded himself he would need to let her know they would be gone for about a week. Sheil didn't know what they were there for, and he felt guilty about it, but he made sure to keep her out of the loop for her own sake. Last thing she needed was to be in the middle of it incase things went bad.


	18. S01 Ep18

**Note: Kashyyyk has been taking a while, so let's knock this out. One thing about action and planning and war. So much of it is time spent on gathering information, planning, feeling things out, and then the moment in which it all is for passes in the blink of an eye. Information gathering, research, and planning take time, doing it rarely takes as long.**

**I also apologize if Kashyyyk came off as weak, but there is a reason to it. Kashyyyk, in my mind, was Leia's battle more than Starkillers. It was a political labyrinth to be moved through more than a fight. And so, being political, it involved a lot of inaction, a lot of talking, and a lot of figuring out what to do on everyone's part. Because the Emperor had his fist around her neck and removing her from the planet wouldn't fix that. That is a major error I saw in Force Unleashed.**

**I also apologize if this chapter is a bit out of character. I am trying to stay within character, but I fear I might have overstepped something.**

* * *

Every society needs heroes. And every society has them. The reason we don't often see them is because we don't bother to look.

-Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono

* * *

**-Leia Organa-**

Leia was growing impatient.

For days she had watched the situation surrounding her and considered what avenue she could entice her would-be-rescuer to use. His objective was clear: To get her out. But as she considered the possibility, she found it was one she did not favor. She watched as the people around her were locked in a conflict that was simply wrong.

The Wookies were once a part of the Republic but left in the rise of the Empire. Rather than be treated as a neutral planet and respected for the great benefit they had given them at one time, Palpatine chose to crush them beneath his heel through Lord Vader. But it was not the Empire nor Palpatine that suffered the brunt of the conflict, but the clones. The Stormtroopers. Men born with the programmed thought only to obey, born with no rights, born out of testtubes as a slave army.

It sickened Leia how the Empire treated outsiders that were not human, and it offended her of the treatment given to a people that were once honorable and respected allies, but it made her infuriated how the Empire treated its own. Was there any benefit to being in the Empire if you gave the Empire your all and yet was given nothing in return? No rights, no payment, nothing?

Leia quickly branched out in her position and found there were benefits to her imprisonment. She was allowed information she would not have otherwise. She saw the numbers and plans regarding the continued conquest of Kashyyyk. She read the information on the Wookie 'terrorists', the Imperial army, the bases, the experiments being done here. There was little information she did not have access to. She would have thought the Moff would keep her from seeing it, but rather he took a perverse pleasure from it. The first time she accessed information beyond what she normally did, he engaged her in conversation in regards to what she read. This told her that he knew of her change in pattern, he knew what information she was accessing, and he liked it.

So Leia responded in kind. She allowed these talks. If he wanted to tickle her brain about the continued plans for the conquest, then she would be fine with that, because in turn he would reveal his thoughts and his plans. What she realized was a fact that were previously unknown to her.

It didn't matter how you did it, so long as you won. At the same time, no matter how you lost, you failed. There was no excuse for failure. And there was no caring for conditions of victory. All that mattered was victory and defeat.

If it didn't matter how they won, then could they change the method of conquest? Make it filled with less bloodshed? Less purges?

These thoughts taunted Leia. She knew she was powerless so long as Sturn was in control. She saw the benefit of having Kashyyyk back in the fold, and she saw the benefit of the space elevator prototype, but she yearned to change the conditions in which both were utilized. Find a diplomatic resolution and to take the elevator off to worlds where it would benefit the galaxy rather than sit in a Moff's backyard for him to gaze at and glory over.

She looked at the Wookie trophy prisoners every day. Every day she saw their eyes glass over a little more. It was more than a physical defeat, but a mental one. Their very soul was being sucked out. She would stand before their cages and look at them, and they wouldn't noice. She had become just a blur to them. The days passed beyond their sight. Sickened with her inability to do anything, she would turn and walk away. Her only true companion was an R2 unit, and it couldn't change anything.

The days passed.

Leia sat in her room reviewing documents as was her custom at night when Harbinger's voice appeared. She didn't wait to know what he had to say before she had an answer for him, "I don't want to leave."

**-Starkiller/Harbinger-**

**-Leia's quarters-**

Harbinger sat in the shadows and watched Leia look out the window.

She could not be serious.

"You are a prisoner!" He growled.

"I am." She replied simply.

"And you don't want to escape!?"

"That's right."

Damn woman! He should have just grabbed her the first day and run off with her! But no, he had to be wasting time going back and forth trying to appease people for politically correct reasons. His fingers itched to move and he felt the heat of his fury dispel the cold chill he had just left. Screw politics! "I can't accept that. Your father wants you, so I'm taking you to him!"

She argued, "That would not be for the best. He wants me safe. Here is as good as there if he feels I am well. Leaving will only arise Palpatine's attention again."

Starkiller tsk'd and considered what this changed. It was true what she said. If he could bring to Organa something to appease him, it might work. But he couldn't very well do that if she was a prisoner her. Organa would only be happy if she was safe and away from the Emperor's thumb.

"Listen, I appreciate everything, but I don't want to leave. I want to stay and help."

Starkiller couldn't help the cynical laugh that escaped him. From his robotic voice, it probably sounded creepy. Before he had found her interesting because she was a strong woman. Now he was considering the possibility she was just a fool. "Help who?! The people are nearly defeated! Besides, you are a prisoner. You can't help other people find freedom or a better life if you can't do it for yourself!"

She was silent a moment. "There is much good I can do here even with my limited power, and that is what I intend to do."

"Isn't that EXACTLY what got you on Palpatine's radar to begin with?"

She smiled. "It is, but then isn't it cowardice to give up? I stand for something, Harbinger. When you stand for something, you inevitably make enemies, and then you only have to find yourself standing for it harder. I can't just let him know he won just because he waved a finger my direction and told me I'm a bad girl."

Starkiller realized he wasn't going to change his mind. She viewed Palpatine as an enemy just as he did. She merely had a different way of combatting him. He had no intention of letting Palpatine win or of running away. She wasn't a fool. If anything, she was more like him than he realized.

Starkiller sat back against the wall and sighed. He would need to relay this information to Kota. He was tired of running information back and forth. "We got in contact with the Wookie leader." He told her. "We plan to get him in on a plan that will be mutually beneficial." That perked her attention. She gave him a very brief glance in his direction but kept her face towards the window. "And we, in the thought of extracting you, figured it would be best to remove the Moff from power. It would make it easier."

"It would…" She said thoughtfully.

"But if you have no intention of leaving, then what's the point? Either I kidnap you back or you cooperate or we return empty handed. Take your pick, but if you choose the third one then I'm grabbing you."

Leia, rather than reply, asked a question, "Will anyone be killed in your plans?"

Starkiller rolled his eyes. Kota was right about these people. They were too pacifist for his liking. "Don't know yet."

"I like the plan…" Leia said. "If Sturn is demoted then I can take control here… and reshape the Imperial conquest to be more diplomatic."

Starkiller raised an eyebrow. He didn't agree, but it sounded like she was going along with the idea of removing Sturn. "Have anything in mind?" Knowing her, she wouldn't want him to just get it over with and kill the man. Best to let her have an idea first. If he said his idea first, it would be bad.

She just smiled. Starkiller felt a chill go down his back. There was something about the smile that seemed… familiar.

**-Moff Sturn-**

**-Minutes Later-**

The Moff was just going about his day in his private chambers: Enjoying fine wine, reading up on the latest gossip, keeping a lazy eye on the progress of the planet's slow-but-steady conquest, when suddenly out of the shadows a hand grabbed him and a robotic voice whispered, "Hi."

Everything blacked out, only for him to wake up again in the forest bound and tied hanging from a branch of a high tree. He promptly screamed. A robotic voice laughed above him and Sturn felt realization come upon him like a slap to the face. He had been kidnapped.

"You know you scream like a girl?" The voice said above him in clear amusement.

"LET ME GO!" Sturn barked while struggling with the restraints. He swung back and forth kicking his legs furiously. "I will have you clapped in restraints and halled away to a dark dank corner of the galaxy to rot with the rats while only the moaning of the damned keep you company as every last bit of your sanity crumbles…" He breathed. "YOU BARBARIAN!"

A man dropped down to a lower branch just below him. The man rose up to meet him at eye-level and Sturn found himself looking back at the reflection of his own face. The sight unnerved him. He saw how low he had come in the last few moments of his life. His hair was down, he had a blood-shot eyes, he was covered in grime and dirt, he had the beginning of a few bruises on his fair face. He looked into his own eyes and saw how desperate and scared he was, and the sight of it sent a chill down his spine. It was like looking into the eyes of a cornered rabbit. He knew he was scared, but to see it shown back to him so close was a shock to his senses.

"Where do you think I crawled out of?" The masked man responded. As though he was a criminal or evil man that had come out of the very rotten insane asylums Sturn spoke of. To Sturn, still in shock at his condition and having it shoved in his face by a black-cloaked shadow with no face and no features in his voice to show such a base thing as humanity, he saw the man as a demon crawled out of hell.

Sturn gulped. He wrapped himself in a cloak of pride. It was thin, but it kept him from falling so far as to be defeated in both mind and body. "Do you know who I am? I am in charge of this sector! I have an army at my back and a Star Destroyer at my beck and call!"

"Consider this a hostile takeover." The man punched him in the face and Sturn was knocked unconscious again.

Next he awoke, not in the trees bound hanging above the ground, but on the ground bound to a tree. There was a crackling fire before him. Sturn looked every which way for his kidnapper but whether the man was gone or because of his black-ness in the dark, Sturn failed to see him.

After a few minutes Sturn decided he was bound to a tree while sitting on the ground, he had no idea where he was (although it couldn't have been too long so he had to be still in friendly territory), and his kidnapper was freshly gone. There was a rotating spit on the fire with no animal assorted and a skinning knife leaning just within the fire slowly being made searing hot.

Perfect. The kidnapper was such a fool to walk off and catch his prey and prepare to skin it, that he left the knife! Sturn scoffed. The man truly was a barbarian, thinking only with his stomach and not his brains.

Sturn worked his way as far down the rope as he could until it was bunched up against his shoulders and he extended his feet as far as they could go. The knife was near, but not quite close enough. Looking here and there for something with which to extend his reach, he found the fire-poker conveniently nearby. Kicking it closer with the hell of his boot, he grasped it between his two feet and reached for the knife like a feet-fisher-man. The hook on the end of the poker tapped the knife and emited a high-pitched metallic tap.

Sturn froze at the sound, terrified of being caught. The moment passed by peacefully, broken only by the crinkling fire. He smiled widely. The fool was long gone.

Again he reached for the knife with the poker between his feet. This time it dug into the dirt on the opposite side of the handle and he tugged it towards him. Inch by inch the knife came closer, its blade red-hot from time in the fire. He managed to get it close enough to reach with a hand and he grasped it. He spun it around in his palm, placed the sharp blade up against the rope, and started to cut. With the difficulty of his position and the inability to properly see, he accidentally cut his own shoulder. He dropped the knife and gasped in pain as the burning sensation combined with a cutting of a sharp knife went through his bicep. He felt liquid go down his arm and knew he was bleeding.

Still, not one to give up, he tried again. He kept at it vigorously. With each slice he felt the rope's tightness give little by little until finally it snapped!

Sturn dashed into the darkness without hesitation, not noticing the shadow pass by overhead.

**-Harbinger-**

Starkiller restrained the urge to chuckle as he stalked the Moff. "I think I like her." Starkiller whispered to himself. Leia was downright mean.

The Moff was making it far too easy. The man was fidgety and observant, sure, but his own terror kept him from knowing the difference between fiction and reality. Was that bush the wind or a predator? Which of his demons were real and made up? Many a time the Moff did look in Starkiller's direction, but he looked no more or less real than all of the other images in his mind's eye.

To add to that affect, Starkiller disturbed his peace. Sometimes it was a falling branch, a rock, the sound of footsteps, a sudden burst of speed through nearby bushes that sent a terrified Moff running from an unseen predator. Starkiller did not allow the man to figure out where he was or where he was going, and like a shephard's dog with his sheep, he steered him in the direction needed while taking the time to remove any potential patrols that might rescue him.

At last he allowed the Moff some peace and quiet, but this only succeeded in unnerving the man more. He moved slowly and cautiously. Every step the Moff took was measured and checked for response in sound or movement from his surroundings. Until… at last… he was where Starkiller wanted him to be.

It was as simple as walking his friend into a Wookie ambush and turning the other way.

Starkiller returned to the ship where Kota was waiting and entered in. Kota was at the holotable listening to a broadcast. Starkiller recognized the figure of Attichitcuk, Jowwarr, and Sturn. Said Moff was in restraints. In another portion of the holotable was another party with Leia Organa and a Stormtrooper in unusually detailed armor.

Harbinger whispered, "Are we transmitting?"

Kota shook his head. "This is a tap in on their broadcast provided by Attichitcuk. You haven't missed much."

"You think us fools, Imperial?!" Attichitcuk demanded.

"Please, be patient, chief. We do not want to do anything we will regret." Leia cautioned him.

Kota whispered, "They've been going back and forth on this little drama now for five minutes, but earlier Attichitcuk made a demand for the Imperials to leave Kashyyyk in return for the life of the hostage."

"I think you will regret it when your scion hangs from our walls!" The Wookie exclaimed.

"Chief, you know I cannot give you what you seek." Leia said patiently.

"Didn't he go a bit far with wanting the Empire to just get up and leave over one guy?" Starkiller wondered.

"It's called haggling. Begin with a price much too high, let yourself be bought down, and still come out with far more profit than what you would have gotten otherwise."

Attichitcuk growled softly for a moment and looked down at the gagged man studiously for a moment, as if measuring his value. "Then I may agree to lesser terms, he is pathetic and dishonorable. We have already obtained all we need from this traitor." He spit on the guy.

"Good guess."

"Actually it was part of the plan to begin with, you were too busy toying with him to be in on it."

"Ah." Starkiller shrugged, then looked to him curiously, "What does he mean by that last part?"

"I don't know…" Kota sighed. "I don't like it. It wasn't what we agreed on. The plan was to agree to terms that are reasonable, but then to turn around and say they have gained something from him and label him a traitor? What is he playing at?"

"Sounds like he is going for more than just one bite from this chance."

"Mhmm." Kota agreed.

The debate went on for a bit as Leia bartered on behalf of the Empire for the life of Moff Sturn. Being a politician, she had to have been a graduated lawyer, and was able to stand in on such short notice. A bit too convenient, if someone was to be skeptical.

Finally the terms was set that Leia would be freeing a number of slaves and Sturn's greatest prize, Attichitcuk's son, from the borders of the Imperial occupation on Kashyyyk. The rest was halted, however, by the firm stance that the Empire does not barter with its enemies. The slaves were an exception because slaves are, by existence of slavery, the cheapest commodity there is, but land was out of the question. Even from her position in the act, Leia could only go so far.

The transmission ended in cordial terms. Kota and Starkiller entered the lounge to relax. "Now we wait." Kota said.

"I'm tired of waiting…" Starkiller groaned.

"Politics has a lot of it, you'll get used to it. As a former General, I know your pain. You want blankets? You have to fill in requisition orders, followed by inspections to be sure you don't have them already, followed by inspections into the environmental conditions (nevermind the fact it is 12-degrees outside on an ice planet), then you have to get signatures in triplicate on another set of requisition orders with signatures from all inspectors and yourself sent to the requisition officer in charge of your sector, and pray he doesn't use it as toilet paper. Naturally they only work two hours a day, three days a week, so the paper might land on someone's desk in two weeks, and then he has to get off his busy golf-schedule to manage the finger muscles to write a return signature agreeing to the order. At this point it is sent to another department that successfully bypasses all that red-tap crap because that one signature is worth more than the rest combined and has your blankets in your hands in two hours."

All this time Starkiller is scrounging in the fridge for a sandwich and was only half listening. "Sounds like one gigantic waste of time."

"Welcome to politics. They love to find ways to waste your time. They tell you what to do and its our job to find a way." Kota chuckled. "But, you know, we soldiers have our ways. By the time we received the blankets from command, we already had some."

"How?" Starkiller asked with a sandwich in his mouth. He kicked the fridge shut.

Kota smiled. "We just invaded and stole them from the enemy." Starkiller stared blankly at him a moment for bursting out in laughter. Kota did the same. Kota continued in between chuckles, "Being cold makes a soldier desperate and an army fierce! You should have seen it, we had them at gun-point opening the doors and were yelling, 'GIVE US YOUR DAMN BLANKETS!'" This only made Starkiller laugh harder.

"I can see it."

Starkiller looked outside. "In that case, what do you say we find a way to get something done and steal some stuff? PROXY, you in?"

Kota considered it a moment, he tapped his chin. "Fine, go ahead and have your fun. With Leia in charge at the moment, we can afford to relax a bit. Just don't get caught and don't kill anyone. We don't need to give her unnecessary heat, especially now."

Starkiller left with PROXY to raid a nearby outpost and steal a crate or two. As he left, he glanced back at the ship and smirked in curious thought. He had never really laughed like that before with a 'teacher' before. He had laughed a few times with Juno and PROXY, but never with anyone he was a student with. Vader wouldn't have allowed the slightest bit of emotion to come from him that wasn't associated with the Dark Side directly. Kota was crazy and got on his nerves like no one else, but… despite the heat Starkiller gave him, the drunkard wasn't bad. Wasn't bad at all.

**-Grand Moff Tarkin Snoke-**

**-In Orbit above Nar Shadaa-**

Tarkin was not amused.

The data was clear. His analysis was spot-on. The progress in squeezing the life out of the gangs was supposed to go at a clear rate. The Hutts had abandoned Nar Shadaa very quickly and left it with no support. This left a bunch of rattag rebels and terrorists all across the surface to be blotted out. With no support, no true life-line, the groups would begin to be uprooted within a week and within a month Tarkin expected to see the beginning stages of large scale submission. People naturally needed to eat and drink so this gave a month to be a good timetable to begin it. From there he could distribute care packages and supplies to sectors that submitted in order to revive the local businesses, hospitals, factories, and so forth. In addition he could move troops from sectors that submitted into sectors that were still holding.

Things were going exactly as expected. The people were upset over having to ration and they would carry on. (After all, his methods were not meant to be popular but to get results. They would appreciate the peace when he is done.) Lesser gangs and groups of rebels were throwing down their weapons en masse. Tarkin had very little respect for them. They may have been former slaves forced into a position by their masters, but when the Hutts fled, they could have easily left their occupation just as quickly. No, they had to raise up arms again. It wasn't even the larger gangs that were the problem for him. They were like fat men told they had to eat one meal a day and enter a triathlon… in short they were destroying themselves under their own weight.

A hiccup that irritated him was that a few gangs were acting… unusual. They weren't being starved for food and munitions despite the grip on them, and a couple were even gathering together. This was well within the realm of expectation until the other day when they successfully broke through a sector border. This small collection of realms were breaking the net meant to tie them down.

The plan was still well on its way, it was just a small group of sectors that were proving tenacious. He would need to rethink his plans for this handful specifically. When you consider the imagination and will of people as a whole, and the chaos that this anarchy comes with, it is still within the realm of possibility and expectation that a few obstacles would stand in his way. He didn't know the nature of these obstacles, but he left enough room in his plans to work around it.

No, what truly irked him was that latest news. News that had nothing to do with him or his work here, unless it meant taking up his valuable time and requiring him to divert his attention elsewhere. Which, for the moment, it did.

Tarkin stood before the holotable looking Princess Leia Organa in the eyes. Tarkin had a natural glare from his hawkish personage that he exploited to its full extent, and he was oppressively silent while stewing over the information provided to him. She did not balk before his glare and was patient in his time spent processing what he had read and heard.

"If you will, allow me to get this straight." The Grand Moff said patiently. "Moff Sturn was kidnapped within the confines of his own mansion, and his private security, by the natives. In turn he has provided intelligence to them that has allowed them to raid outposts along the border, and in order to secure his safety you have bargained with them by trading a total of two-hundred slaves. You took action as well by having our forces pull back from the border, have uploaded the space elevator onto the Star Destroyer, and finally have sent it back to the core worlds. Is that an accurate assessment of the events?"

"It is." Princess Organa nodded.

The Moff nodded. Outwardly, he was irritated. Inwardly, he was infuriated.

In the span of hours the situation on Kashyyyk had exploded into a situation that he might very well have to stamp down on, while he was too far through his work in Nar Shadaa to leave. Simply put, someone was incompetent.

Tarkin split up the events in his mind. First, the Moff was kidnapped. That was an utter failure. The man was in his deepest secure holdings and had assured his fellow Moff's that his fortress was impregnable. He used experimental technology ranging from a space elevator to a sea-filter (of the lethal kind) as part of his fortress. Tarkin knew very well of the man's reputation for parties and… his collections, but so long as the man produced results, then Tarkin was content to let his eccentricities go. Yet it seemed now those weaknesses had come to bite the man in the ass.

The idea of Wookies kidnapping the Moff was peculiar. Tarkin didn't doubt the man was kidnapped, but Wookies? They were not known for stealth by any means. No, someone else was involved. A cynical man might have figured Organa played a part in it, and he was not so believing in the goodness of a man's heart to think the Organa family was not above kidnapping Sturn, but the events themselves did not leave Tarkin with the impression that Princess Organa was involved. She was, in many ways, faithful to the Empire. Hm… correction. She was faithful to the people of the Empire. There was a difference. She did not believe in the ways of the Empire, but she would not go out of her way to injure the Empire's assets because she, being as high up as she is and intelligent as her reputation is, would not want to damage the Empire in such a way that would hurt its people.

He had no doubt in his mind that Organa was using Sturn's failure for her benefit, and inwardly he liked that. It was a mindset he wanted in more people, that they would see an opportunity to get stuff done and take it rather than sit around waiting and mourning and crying. But for her to orchestrate it? It didn't fit.

Unbeknownst to Princess Organa, Tarkin had demanded a private investigation into the situation. She most likely expected it anyway, but couldn't admit to knowing about it. From what Tarkin's reporter had come back with, there had been a number of events that Tarkin noticed were odd. First a ship appears using Imperial IFF tags only to not know the passwords and disappeared when it was chased. Second, a higher number of patrols disappeared immediately following, and the investigator found the disappearing patrols made an obvious trail deeper and deeper into Imperial territory. Finally the raids started. They were small but left behind enough damage to be obvious that someone had used a plasma weapon. (The report suggested a plasma saw.)

The second great failure was Sturn's inability to take these small signs seriously. His highest officers knew and reported it, but Sturn was too confident and arrogant to take a look. Tarkin did not blame Princess Organa since she was kept out of the loop and most likely still did not know, but Tarkin suspected the kidnapping was an act of a bounty hunter. Most likely one hired by the natives (Though how did they get the means to contact bounty hunters with their planet under blockade? Doubtful.) or it was the Hutts trying to cause trouble. They had the means, the opportunity, and they would benefit from striking at the Empire where it was vulnerable in random places. They would benefit more from striking places of higher value, but then striking randomly was the act of random men.

Tarkin finally spoke, "Sturn was kidnapped in his deepest fortress by, what I suspect were, bounty hunters he couldn't be bothered to notice DESPITE being warned. The first great failure was his. I am willing to say that their claim on him providing intel was false. It is too easy of a ruse to use, and the pattern of raids after his kidnapping is the same as the pattern from before. I will say it is all done by this bounty hunter."

Princess Organa showed a bit of surprise and alarm. Tarkin continued, "I doubt Sturn bothered to let you know there were peculiarties before his kidnapping that would have been these events obvious. It's nothing on you."

"Thank you, my lord."

"What IS, however, on you is the act of treason." Tarkin continued flatly. She was surprised again, but only slightly. She stayed calm.

"Treason?"

He nodded, "Allowing the Empire to appear weak by bargaining with terrorists, pulling our soldiers back, and taking a major assett out of the system. On the surface these acts appear to be of treason, however, I understand there is more to it than that, and I want you to explain your reasoning behind these acts. Make no mistake, I am the one who decides whether you or the Moff will be taken to court over this."

He continued to stare at her firmly. This was both an interrogation and a test. He had her pushed into a corner, he intended so, and she knew it. He held her life in the palm of his hand and he was judge and jury over these proceedings. So far as he was concerned, Sturn had a very heavy punishment awaiting him. He had yet to decide what to do about the Princess. He was open-minded and would allow her to speak her own defense.

"I understand." The Princess gulped and took a moment to compose herself. "First, let us discuss the term 'terrorist'." Tarkin nodded. "It is a word that refers to a person that uses 'terrorism' for political gain. Terrorism is, in turn, a person who use violence and intimidation. Under such a term anyone, ranging from a bar drunk to a mass murdering sociopath could be considered a terrorist. I went through this concluding that these men, these Wookies, were patriots, while understandibly they can be labled as terrorist. The line between the two is thin and so the difference lies in the criminality of the person conducting the act. As Chief Attitichuk has a good history with the former Republic, and has honored many deals with his allies and respecting his enemies, I want you to consider him not as a terrorist but as a patriot."

Tarkin tapped his fingers in thought. "An interesting argument, and from an unbiased standpoint I hardly see how his past changes things. This act is criminal, regardless of his past."

She hesitated, "Then we have little choice but to consider my action as treasonous."

"That is so. However, this is not over. Continue your defense."

"Terrorist or patriot, I considered the value of a few hundred slaves to be insignificant in comparison to what we would gain in the return of the Moff." She said.

"To that we are agreed." Tarkin concluded. "If only the man's incompotence had not landed him in this position to begin with. I question his worth. Regardless, in terms of value it was a sound judgement. Provide them something they want that is of little value for us, in return for something we value much more. It was good business sense."

"Thank you."

"Makes it no less treasonous, however. You did bargain with terrorists. However, is there anything more in regards to that or shall we move on to your defense of the next act?"

"I am willing to move on."

"Good."

"I may not have known of the prior raids to his kidnapping, but once I was in charge, I was informed of the ones that arose. With the possibility that he was feeding them intel, I felt it best to facilitate our position before we lose anything of importance. A stretch of land is important, but so much more is the lives and facilities within a base."

"A judgement made by one ignorant to war." Tarkin argued. "But a good one anyway. Being a politician, I would have expected far worse judgement. I will drop the charge on that count, but in the future, be aware that land around a base is just as important as the base itself. It allows maneuverability."

"Understood."

"You may continue. You moved the space elevator and the rescued Moff onto the Star Destroyer and sent it back to the core worlds? This lost us the blockade of the planet."

"Perhaps a mistake in judgement." She allowed. "But, again. Under the possibility of losing much, I felt it best to secure assets. The Moff needed to be transported back, and the space elevator is a prototype that will have great benefits from the Empire if it is mass-produced. Considering the natives lack air capability since the loss of their factories in the invasion, I made the judgement that they would be incapable of breaking the blockade. Perhaps one or two small ships might, but nothing worrisome."

At this time, while she was speaking, a soldier entered the range of the hologram and presented a document to her. She did not read it, but kept herself focused on the conversation. Tarkin nodded. "Under the conditions and with your inexperience, it is expected that your judgement and methods would lack the strength I would otherwise desire. You are a politician, after all, not a general or tactician. So I will allow these… setbacks, considering they are merely obstacles and I will ensure the next Moff in charge is much more aggressive in his methods than the previous one."

The Princess paled slightly. Tarkin knew she sympathized with the natives, but he would have none of it. He didn't care what she thought.

Considering she was a prisoner and was very well in a position to do great harm to the Empire in retaliation for the unofficial position, then the fact that she managed to secure their position in a crumbling circumstance is noteworthy. It was a 'so-so' performance, but one far greater than otherwise expected. Not to mention she had to do it all while being in opposition to a people she sympathizes with. He concluded that her soft-approach to the situation (as she didn't outright invade them ot get the Moff back) would be due to her sympathy. But then… what else can you expect from a politician and soft princess put into a general's shoes?

Her judgement was well and good, but Tarkin was a man of facts. And the fact was that she had committed treason by bargaining with terrorists, and that was a corruption he could not allow. Execution it was then. Pity.

As he considered these things, the princess took the time to look over the document in her hands. What she saw must have been of importance, because she spoke urgently with a hint of nervousness, "My lord, there is a new development."

"Oh?" He inquired.

"Yes, I have here a vid, if I may." She gestured to the holotable.

"You may." Tarkin was curious.

What he saw did not make him happy. It was a vid showing the Moff sneaking through the Kashyyk jungle very cautiously and carefully, looking everywhere to be sure he wasn't caught, as he snuck through. The timestamp in the corner of the holovid was at the approximate time of the kidnapping. Tarkin was seething. "And just where was he going?"

He had the answer, but it showed how truly angry he was that he was asking a question he already knew the answer to anyway.

"Out of Imperial borders." The stormtrooper by the princess confirmed.

Tarkin breathed in and out deeply, closed his eyes, and took a moment to push aside his anger. So… the man was not kidnapped. He went willingly and was careful not to be caught. That changed things… That changed a lot of things.

"All charges on you is dropped." Tarkin said, his eyes still closed. He couldn't say the man was kidnapped if he went of his own will, and he couldn't say the chief was a terrorist if he hadn't kidnapped the man, and so the idea that the princess was bargaining with terrorists was no longer a sound charge. She acted to the best of her ability with little information. He heard the princess give a sigh of relief. "In consideration of your performance, I will have you provided with… a better arrangement. Your duty on Kashyyyk is fulfilled and there will be commendations in it for you."

In short, he would give her freedom from her unofficial prison on the Emperor's behalf.

He didn't wait for a response before cutting the channel. He was beyond politeness and patience. He didn't raise his voice, rather, he lowered it. His voice was icy and low. "Get Sturn on the channel. I would like to have a word with him."


	19. S01 Ep19

_"Give a man a mask and he will become his true self." -Oskar Wilde_

* * *

**-Starkiller/Harbinger-**

**-Bail Organa's private shuttle-**

Starkiller had been on a few ships in his life. All of them would fit into one of three categories. The first was his home on the Executor and it was still incomplete with many of its components 'naked'. The second was the fine shuttles his master used and let me on only twice in memory, they were practical and efficient. (The first time being when he was originally rescued from the conflict on Kashyyyk years ago and the second when Vader took him from his second temporary home to the Executor.) The third category was the filthy but efficient ships his pilots used while he was an assassin in Vader's service.

This ship fit into none of these categories. It had some of the efficiency necessary to create a self-contained ship in the cold depths of space, but it was far from any ship he had ever seen. This shuttle was designed for comfort just as much as practicality. Its white surfaces shined with the fine gloss surface and cleanliness it portrayed. Starkiller almost felt squeamish. This place felt like a hospital, it was so clean.

Kota lead the way. It was an odd situation to have a blind Jedi leading the way for him, but they had briefly discussed it. Kota knew Organa going back years, he had the experience in politics needed to talk with Organa properly, and he was the one Organa would look to as the rescuer of his daughter as he had originally employed Kota to begin with. Or rather given the offer to, but that was just a detail at this point.

It was a logical argument and Starkiller felt no reason to argue with it. He cared more for results at the end of the day and that they make steady progress. Jowwarr's huge bulk took up the entirety of the hall and practically hid Starkiller from view as they walked. Starkiller couldn't see ahead at all through the Wookie's big butt and overbearing two shields.

They had a clear objective: Take credit for the freeing of Leia, and temporarily giving the natives a moment to breathe without having the Empire down their necks, and in return have Organa as a sponsor to their army.

Starkiller made a mental note to return one day and free Kashyyyk. Their sense of debt would go a long way towards fueling his army. Their strength was as legendary as their retribution.

Towards that end, Starkiller needed to be prepared to put his neck out and expose some details he wouldn't otherwise like put out there. Organa wouldn't backstab them lest they return the favor and expose how he had hired them to go behind Palpatine's back to rescue Leia. Starkiller was loathe to actually trust anyone, but there would have to be at least some details necessary to reveal.

It would be up to Kota to decide how many details Starkiller needed to expose. The less the better.

Starkiller heard a door open as they briefly halted, and Jowwarr fit his big self into a small door to enter a conference room. Starkiller followed and Jowwarr placed himself just to the side. The conference room was a comfortable size (for humans) and had a long table in the middle. On opposite sides of the room were monitors in the walls and there was a holoprojector in the middle of the table. There were paintings on the walls, a small window showing the stars, and one glance at the chairs surrounding the long table told him they were very very VERY comfy. The blind Jedi was already embracing another man.

Judging from the massive smile and camaraderie, he presumed the man to be Bail Organa. Leia was a bit behind her father being pleased to see them as well.

Kota pulled out of the joyous hug to be polite, "Bail Organa, may I introduce my ally, Harbinger." He motioned in Starkiller's direction. He missed by a thirty-degree angle, but it was easy enough to figure out what he meant. Starkiller nodded. He wore his usual mask and black robes to hide all of his features and synthesize his voice.

"So that is what you look like." Leia smirked. "Aren't you taking the dark and mysterious type a bit far?"

Starkiller snorted in amusement. It came out as a weird sound. "It suits me."

"Harbinger." Bail Organa put his hand out to be shaken. Starkiller was not used to the gesture, but thankfully only briefly hesitated.

"And I see the rest of you have already met." Kota said with a smile.

"We have." Starkiller answered.

Leia tilted her head to the side and smirked. "Yeah, he kind of just appeared in my room one night-"

"What?" Organa asked in surprise, instantly on alert like a protective father. Kota had the decency to look surprised as well. Starkiller rolled his eyes. She had phrased it that way on purpose. Starkiller heard Jowwarr cough to cover up a laugh from behind him.

"Don't worry, father. He was a perfect gentlemen." Leia comforted him.

"Good." Her father visibly calmed down. "But please don't give me a start like that. I don't want to die of a heart attack."

Yeah, she was a spitfire, Starkiller figured. Not that he thought it a bad thing. He actually found it amusing.

"Aanyway." Organa fixed his composure to be neutral, but appreciative. His attention was on Kota. "I wanted to thank you properly for your help in rescuing my daughter. I do admit, I had my doubts, and I did not expect you to come to my aid after refusing my offer once before, but I am all the more appreciative of the fact that you overcame your own difficulties to help me with my own in such short notice. I don't know how I can ever repay this debt."

"I think we might know a way." Kota said diplomatically.

"Oh?" Organa asked. He didn't look surprised at all.

"Simply put: I want you to sponsor his army." Kota pointed in Starkiller's general direction.

Organa clearly was not expecting that answer, but he held his surprise back all the same. He looked to Harbinger and was silent a long moment. On Starkiller's part, he expected Kota to be more… round-about in getting to the conclusion rather than direct. Guess Organa was used enough to how Kota was to accept such directness on his part.

"I see." Organa said neutrally. Organa continued to stare at Starkiller and he had the distinct impression he was being analyzed and judged. "That complicates things."

Starkiller could only imagine. He wasn't as politically minded as them, but they had only just pulled the Organa's out of a difficult position with Palpatine. Technically Bail was still high on Palpatine's naughty list, and what they were asking him to do would put him all the way at the top of that list.

"I know, and I realize this offer puts you in a very difficult position, but will you at least hear us out on this?" Kota asked.

"I will listen, but I can promise no more than that." Organa accented. He pulled up a chair and after sitting in it, motioned to the opposite side of the table. "Gentlemen, being a Senator's private shuttle, I have no cameras or listening devices of any kind in rooms such as these. In addition, my guard are sworn to absolute silence not to reveal a word of all they hear or see in my service. Trust that what you say will not go off this ship."

Starkiller could appreciate that.

"Do you mind if I begin this talk with a question?"

Starkiller nodded.

"General Kota." Organa asked. "What of your army? The last I heard you had fallen and the last I saw of you gave me the impression you would disappear into hiding or… unfortunately die hung over in a bar somewhere. I am greatly pleased that this is not the case, but you can imagine my surprise of such a massive turnaround."

"I understand, Senator." Kota returned in the same business-like tone. "Allow me to first say I am still fallen. I am not the Jedi I once was, and I may enjoy a good drink more now than I used to." It was all Starkiller could do not to comment on that. "But as for my army and my return to the galactic stage, they are both due to this man." He nodded towards… well the opposite direction from Starkiller.

"I'm on this side." Starkiller commented, politely as he could.

"Right. Still, my point stands. Harbinger is the reason I have returned. To elaborate, if you will allow me?"

"Certainly." Organa accented.

"When I had made the attack on the Imperial station, it had been with the objective of freeing Nar Shadaa from the Empire's control and to draw Vader out of hiding. I won't hide my intentions as I was desperate and tired of hiding. I had enough. I lost, but the army I lost were only those that followed me. My apprentice had retained a large portion of the original sum and was making humanitarian efforts on the planet at the time. They were trapped by the Star Destroyer to occupy the planet, and Harbinger presented an… oppurtunity of escape."

"Do you mind if I interrupt?"

"Not at all, Senator."

Organa turned his attention to Starkiller. "Did you know them at the time?"

"No."

"Then how and why did you give them escape? I wish to gouge your intentions."

Starkiller considered his answer a long moment. He was unsure if honesty was really the best policy here, as he didn't want to damage his odds of having a sponsor at last, but then lieing would most likely be far worse. Then again, as Kota was teaching him, politics was about using the truth to your advantage and twisting it in a way that benefitted you without lieing since people can easily come to the facts themselves and see if you are outright lieing or not.

"It was not selfless. My goal was to leave and find General Kota, but I felt we could have mutual benefit. Falon agreed to join my army with the condition that he could leave without repercussion and on a more immediate benefit, his input gave me a…" Starkiller wasn't sure how to say it. "A benefit in my talk with Kota… I am not sure how to say that right."

"I understand the gist of it. Kota took you more seriously."

"Exactly."

Organa nodded and sat back in thought. "When you say he could leave, what condition do you believe would come into play?"

Starkiller hesitated, he didn't understand what that meant. As if sensing it, Kota gave his input. "If Harbinger's army goes too far against Falon's morals, he can walk away. I am of the same deal."

Organa nodded again, seeming interested. "A very interesting deal." He commented neutrally. Starkiller could not tell if it meant what he meant by that. It was an empty statement. This was why he hated politics… "I presume this is where you two met?"

Kota said, "Yes. Sometime after you left me on Bespin, the Harbinger found me and was accompanied by Falon. I listened to the Harbinger and agreed to join him as his advisor. Knowing how an army works, I advised him to seek sponsors."

"Which is where we come to this… you thought to bring me into your debt and to make a deal for sponsorship." Organa looked to Harbinger with respect. "It would appear there is more to you than meets the eye if you have managed to come this far. Earning the respect and servitude of the Jedi Master is more than what most can boast."

Starkiller was unsure what to say to that. He felt it was unearned. Realistically, it was both ways. Kota was compliant and joined him because of it was the Will of the Force. Yet it was also Starkiller's efforts that gained his attention and potential loyalty. Starkiller said neither of these thoughts.

"In addition, you orchestrated the liberation of my daughter." Organa continued.

At this point, Starkiller felt he had to stop him. "You will find I did little. Most of the credit goes to your daughter. In fact, Kota can tell you how I spent the entirety of our time there complaining about not having anything to do but exchange information."

Kota chuckled.

Organa said, "Patience enough to know when to act and when not to act is just as much worthy of credit, as well as allowing those to work in fields best suited to themselves."

That Starkiller could accept. He damn well earned recognition for putting up with the boredom as it was. Kota didn't give him near enough credit for that.

"Now… clearly you are a man of ambition. Willing to go to lengths to meet your goal and the patience to see it through." Organa mused. "However, now this leaves me wondering exactly what that ambition is. What I see is a man in dark robes with a mirror-mask, who is capable of garnering two Jedi as allies, can infiltrate a fortress and move across Imperial controlled worlds. This tells me nothing about who you are nor what you intend to do with your army."

Kota looked uncomfortable with the new direction Organa chose to take his questions. Starkiller couldn't blame him. This was where it would be difficult. Organa was a politician. He would see war from a very different standpoint. Starkiller couldn't say what his perspective would be, nor what arguments he might have.

He had been raised by Vader who was a Sith, a general, a soldier in many ways. Vader hated politics. Starkiller grew in that mindset of simple strength and loyalty and servitude. He wasn't stupid by any means, but there is a simplicity in servitude that kept him from thinking too deeply into the consequences of certain actions and how it would impact the galaxy as a whole. It was up to the master to know the larger details. Thoughts like that eluded him, yet it was the very thing Organa breathed.

"Who Harbinger is would perhaps be the greatest secret of the army." Kota replied. This was clearly noted by Organa, but again he kept his opinion in check.

"Is your identity so important that it would risk your army?" Organa inquired.

Starkiller said, "To directly answer your question, yes. I have powerful enemies and exposing myself would destroy me and everyone around me. Yet, to understand: I am nobody. In all seriousness, I do not know my birthname nor my heritage. I have lived my life with titles and identities as nothing more than a shadow. As a person I am as empty as what you see. A dark robed man behind a mask that shows nothing of himself but reflects everyone else back to them. I'm a ghost, a phantom, an empty vessel. I chose the identity of the Harbinger to create this army with a quest in mind… to slay Vader and bring down Palpatine."

To say the two politicians in the room were shocked would be an understatement.

**-Palpatine-**

**-Coruscant-**

Palpatine tapped his armrest in growing aggravation.

While Palpatine spent the majority of his time on Coruscant in his throne room, that by no means meant he was out of contact with his officers and generals. He kept a number of PROXY droids. The highest members of his government had a couple, though he had never seen Vader use his.

The scene being played out by his long-range communication droid was one of Tarkin preciding over the interrogation of one very incompotent Moff. Palpatine couldn't be bothered to remember the man's name, he was too insignificant. Palpatine wanted to make an example of the man all the same. In addition to Palpatine's secret observation of the interrogation and Tarkin, there was a Sith Inquisitor conducting the actual interrogation.

The Moff was nothing against the power of the Force. There was no questions asked though many answers were offered. Palpatine and Tarkin lacked the patience for it. The Sith pulled the information out of him and let the man endure the full painful brunt of the experience. Palpatine had experienced it once before at the hands of his own former master, and it was not pleasant experience. It was akin to a combination of being high, a head-splitting migraine, and being hungover while having your life flash before your eyes.

At last the Sith inquisitor left the screaming man alone to collapse on the table where he was chained, and left the room. He reported to Tarkin just outside.

"Grand Moff, despite the ridiculousness of his claims, it seems his claim has credit."

Palpatine stopped tapping his fingers. He listened intently.

"Explain." The Grand Moff ordered.

The Inquisitor nodded. "His claim is that a Jedi kidnapped him. In his memories I found him being knocked out by an intruder, kidnapped, and chased through the forests of Kashyyyk. He had no traitorous intent, though I will not deny his incompetence for crossing the borders unknowingly."

"Can the identity of this Jedi be placed?"

The Sith was silent a moment, then hesitated. "I… I can't say. What I saw was a mask and distorted voice. While he saw no facial features, had no name, and listened to a modulated voice; at the same time the mask and skills of this Jedi were… unusual." He paused a moment. "The mask was a perfect mirror, reflecting himself."

Palpatine raised an eyebrow. Rather odd for a mask. Most were in the fashion of Mandalorian masks or tribal bone constructs, in some fashion.

"And the skills of this Jedi were… Either very powerful, ones I've never heard of, or shadow based. My reasoning for this is that the Jedi appeared in his room out of the shadows. This means either he was able to get there without being seen by cameras, something which no mind trick can do. Or he appeared in the room through some form of teleportation either by moving through walls, a skill I have never heard of, or direct teleportion. The only set of techniques I have heard of capable of this is the Sith Shadow set."

Certainly an interesting theory, Palpatine considered, however it was pointless to waste time musing. Rogue Sith, Jedi, either one didn't matter. The person would be hunted down and destroyed.

"Thank you, if there is nothing more of note, then I must be on my way."

"There is not."

Tarkin nodded and walked off. The PROXY droid showed this while not actually moving. A funny phenonima. If Palpatine was an easily amused man he might have chuckled. "What do you think my lord?" Tarkin inquired.

"It matters little." Palpatine waved aside any concern. "This has not been entirely for naught, but I want to hear what your thoughts are of this matter."

"My first theory is that the Hutts are behind this." Tarkin stated.

Palpatine closed his eyes and considered it. "In what way?"

"That they are turning your own acolytes against you."

It was a feasible tactic, and one that coincided well with the timing of the rising war. The Empire had a number of assetts the surrounding nations lacked. One of the most prominent was Sith. It was just in line with the Hutt's personality and greed to create a number of Sith of their own, or buy off traitorous ones. Then the kidnapping itself was on an Imperial asset, but… there were two things that went against this idea.

The first being the importance of this asset. If the Hutt's Sith were really out to cause damage and sabotage the Empire, then there were thousands of other worlds on which to do it, many of which offered more importance to the infrastructure of the nation than Kashyyyk. Factories, farms, highly populated urban towns, warehouses, ports, the list went on. Kashyyyk was a combination of a slave trader, invasion, and place for a few scientific experiments to be conducted. It wasn't a valuable planet in the least.

If this Sith was hired by the Hutts, then he would have targeted a place far more valuable to the war effort.

The second idea being the number of casualties. A Sith would have killed a great many or assassinated the Moff or stolen valuable information. (Esspecially a Hutt-hired Sith.) None of these three conditions were met since very few were found MIA, the Moff was alive to be declared publically incompetent, and there wasn't information of value there to begin with beyond some scientific observations.

No… there was a detail here they were missing. Palpatine felt there was something else entirely going on here. He couldn't say what. "An interesting theory." He acknowledged in his cold raspy voice. "However, it does not hold up." He explained quickly why, and Tarkin seemed to be in agreement.

"My second theory is that this Sith is actually a Shadow-Jedi."

Palpatine allowed an ironic smirk to plaster onto his face. "Oh?"

"I do not claim to understand your religion, my lord, but I am familiar with the theory that the Jedi claimed to hold themselves to a set of morals and techniques affiliated with the 'Light Side', while you and your acolytes practice techniques affiliated with your 'Dark Side'. With the skills conducted by this individual, I will say the person is not a Jedi. The Jedi held themselves back too much. Yet the morals shown by this individual do not match with the ruthless efficiency of the Sith. As such, I theorize this person is a combination of Jedi-morals and Sith-skills."

A sound theory, Palpatine thought. With the collapse of the Jedi Order, some of those that lived drifted away from the old fashioned Light to become stronger and seek revenge.

But why Kashyyyk? Was it to sabotage this one insignificant Moff? To assist the Wookies, something that was many many years too late. Or was this Sith-Jedi just so incompetent that he chose an invaluable target?

"I am more inclined to go with the second theory." Palpatine stated. "However, as said, it matters little. Rogue Sith, terrorist Jedi, it matters little. He will be hunted down and put down like the dog he is. I will have Vader see to that."

**-Starkiller-**

**-In conference with Organa-**

Bail Organa was silent for an incredibly long time. Starkiller was content to wait out his thoughts, but after several minutes of sitting he was getting impatient. All the same, he said his piece. He tapped Kota on the shoulder, a signal to pick it up from there.

"I realize what this sounds like." Kota said.

"Treason?" Organa asked. "Suicide? Terroristic? Bloody? Rebellious?"

"It is not treason for us," Kota argued. "As we are not part of the Empire, and you of all people know that the line between terrorist, patriot for a cause, and a rebel is very thin. They are practically interchangable and impossible to prove. A man claiming to be one can be labled as another by his enemies, and most likely will. Hero and villain are concepts left to fairy tales."

"Then how can I know your cause is just?"

Starkiller frowned. He didn't like where this was going.

"Our cause is just because Palpatine is evil!" Kota argued heatedly. "You KNOW this! You know what we Jedi were like, and Palpatine put us in checkmate. You know he makes his clone army larger each passing day, and yet denies them all rights. You know of his treatment to xeno's, and his policies on such corrupt things as slavery, prostution, child labor, and those are just the things I have heard about lately!"

"Pardon me, but what is a xeno?" Starkiller asked.

Organa shut his mouth tightly, the shock of actually being in a discussion as treasonous as this having shattered his calm composure. Kota said, "Xeno is a term for non-human. Palpatine has taken away most of the rights of xeno's and enslaves them. The Empire is prospering heavily, but then that is only when you consider that the only 'official' citizens being counted are humans. If you include the xeno's then the Empire is at an all time low."

"I can't say I am surprised." Starkiller replied. "The man has no concept of loyalty."

"No, no he doesn't." Kota agreed pointedly towards Organa. "He walks all over anyone that is on his side and makes out everyone else to be the bad guy. Senator, can you truly say that the Empire is good?"

Organa was silent. Kota took it as confirmation of his thoughts. "If the Empire is as corrupt as I know you think it is, then should it not be something to stand up against?! Just sitting idly by does NOTHING! Troubles do not go away from a drink! I should know! Troubles do not go away just because you turn a blind eye to it! It must be fought!"

"And how many will die before you decide it is no longer corrupt?" Organa fired back. "Because that is what you are asking me to decide."

Starkiller didn't like where this was going one bit, but he couldn't stop the Senator at this point. He didn't know how. He wasn't that good with words.

The Senator continued, "You say the Emperor is corrupt, and I will agree to that to my grave! Vader is no better! But for all that they deserve to suffer, a war will only make EVERYONE ELSE suffer! What you are asking is for me to support to a violent revolution, and that is the worst kind! It brings down the livelihood of scores of worlds, trillions upon trillions, and if you can look me in the eye and not care about that then I want nothing to do with it!" Organa looked pointedly at them both, only… he couldn't look them in the eye. Ironically one wore a mask and the other was blind.

Starkiller was glad for that, because he couldn't give a damn, and he knew that. He didn't claim to be a good guy in the least. The lives of random people was nothing to him. The lives of people who were loyal to him, they were people he considered to have value because he saw loyalty as something valuable. But if he had to burn the galaxy to kill Vader and bring Palpatine to his knees so he could have his turn to be mocked, then Starkiller wouldn't bat an eyelash.

In a way it was a problem within himself that he recognized enough to take measures against. That was partially why he had Kota. Kota would decide the terms of war with its ethics, morals, and limits. Because left to his own devices, Starkiller just didn't care about them. That was how he was raised.

"Of course, we care!" Kota argued. "That is WHY we are doing this! We will not go after civilians, you know me! I am in charge of this army! I decide how far we go, and what measures we take to ensure the security of the people even as we aim to blot out this corruption!"

"That is a great comfort to know." Organa said. "But… Can you say with absolute sureity that not one innocent will be harmed in the process?"

"Don't insult me by asking the impossible…"

"I am not, but you have to realize, if my choice to help you results in mistakes being made and innocents being harmed directly because of me… then what is my life worth? Old friend, I hear your words, and my heart weeps. I hear your pain, and I know something must be done. But I cannot support a violent revolution…"

And just like that… Starkiller's plan fell apart.

"Hypocrite." Starkiller snarled. Now he was angry. The people turned to him. "Any revolution or war that is not willing to sacrifice will get nowhere. The winners are not just the ones with technology, but the ones willing to do what it takes!"

Kota nodded in agreement.

"And who are you to decide who gets sacrificed?" Organa asked.

"We are not the ones who decide who! We are the ones who decides WHERE!" Starkiller yelled. "People come to me of their own admission! For whatever reason, revenge or wealth or glory or for your stupid politicial back-talking agenda, they come and they say 'put my life on the line'! They come knowing they may not come out alive, and it would be an insult to their loyalty not to take advantage of that! It would be an insult to not place them where they would be useful and can get some value out of them! If a soldier comes to me wanting to save lives and I put him behind a desk, I might as well slap him because I had spit on his determination to achieve something! I have friends on the line! I have people I don't want to die in positions to die! They know that, and I know that, and I intend to see that their death means something! If you sit here and SHIT all over their determination to DO something while you sit around and twiddle your thumbs, then I AM THE ONE who wants nothing to do with you!"

Starkiller felt their gaze on him, and a part of him was shamed. Not because he didn't believe in what he said, far from it, and not because he felt it wasn't something that didn't need to be said, but because he may have put the nail in the coffin on this whole plan. Okay, so perhaps shame is not the correct thought for his emotion, but it was the closest one he could think of. But it was all insignificant to his anger, his fury. This… politician was a coward. He was the type to sit behind a desk with his big gut on the table and spout 'war is hell.'.

Starkiller had no use for cowards.

"I'm returning to the ship. Return when you are ready." Starkiller told Kota and left without further input. Kota didn't stop him.

As Starkiller walked, he felt his mind shift violently towards future planning. He tried to figure out what to do now that Organa was a bust, but he was drawing blanks. He needed supporters… He had hoped, no, depended on getting one this early to get his army funded, fed, and able to begin its first operations on a larger scale than just a bunch of squads sitting around gathering information. But without Organa… He would need to rethink everything.

Damnit, this wasn't supposed to happen like this! Starkiller had a vision… He had seen himself with an army. He saw Kota, he saw Organa, he saw Leia, he saw a bunch of other people as well whose names he didn't remember. He had seen the beginning stages work perfectly! What had changed?!

Starkiller stopped as realization hit him.

In his vision, he had been a lie. He had been working for Vader, he had lied to everyone, fed them stuff they would have wanted to hear.

Now, in real life, he was living honestly. Hero or villain, he didn't lie. He worked for himself. He told them what they needed to hear rather than wanted to hear…

And this was the result.

Starkiller smashed his fist into the wall of his private chambers, repeatedly. Jowwarr shifted nervously, but did not stop him. Starkiller yelled, he threw his mask on the cot and screamed his fury to the Force. It took a few minutes before he could hear anything more than the blood pumping through his ears, but then he noticed another sound. His datapad, which he had unknowingly flung to the side, was beeping.

"Get it." Starkiller snarled.

Jowwarr reached down and grabbed it. He growled in his native tongue, "You have a message."

Starkiller flung himself on his cot and stared at the ceiling. Today had been a massive disappointment. All the efforts were in vain.

Jowwarr said, "The message reads, 'I may be of assistance to your war, if you will aid me in mine. - Xena'"

Starkiller blinked in surprise and slowly raised himself back up. He took a moment to be sure he heard that correctly. He extended his hand and Jowwarr gave it to him. Starkiller looked it over and replied.

And just what might your war be? - Harbinger

Freedom. - Xena

Starkiller looked up the Jowwarr, a little bit bewildered, but smiled darkly. "Seems we found an ally."

* * *

**Note: And there we have one of the biggest shifts from canon, and before you pull out torches and pitchforks let me explain. War and politics are very closely intertwined. You almost never have one without the war, or at least the fear of war, or riots, or rebellion, or terrorism. Every politicial move WILL have violent reprocussions in some way. For this there are two battlegrounds: one for politicians/attendants and one for generals/soldiers.**

**At the same time there are two seperate kinds of revolutions, and this is a very important detail:**

**Violent Revolutions involve a lot of bloodshed. Examples would include generals taking over their local government and making themselves dictator, and the French Revolution. People died! A lot! These are not only very bloody, but are historically noted as being so over the top with bloodshed that even Dracula would have a hard time being involved. Naturally, the best form of Violent Revolution is via assassination. As morally dark as that is, it still leaves a lot of people unhurt and makes the process smooth in comparison to your other options, but if it fails then you are left with open war as the enemy retaliates.**

**Politicial Revolutions are different. There is bloodshed when the public or surrounding nations respond, but politicial revolutions are different. The best example here is Palpatine. Yes, he waged a war. But the Clone Wars themselves was just an excuse to build up his power, NOT to do a politicial revolution. the politicial revolution did not occur until the end of Episode 3, and that was through manipulation and taking advantage of some very big events that had left an emotional impact on people to make himself emperor and remake the Republic. As bloody as the Jedi purge was, and as bloody as the Clone Wars were, they were not the politicial revolution. They were there to be taken advantage of to let him DO a politicial revolution. The politicial revolution itself left no one really harmed.**

**And even then, if you consider it, killing off the Jedi and taking advantage of the situation didn't really have an impact on the people. How would it impact a bartender on Tattooine? It wouldn't. Does it mean anything to an engineer if those Jedi died on Coruscant? Not really. The Republic's people were kept out of the conflict.**

**Violent Revolutions involve the people and destruction on a massive scale if not done swiftly enough or clean enough.**

**Now consider Organa and his position. Star Wars is brilliant, but it has little holes like this where obviously Organa, who is such an extreme pacifist, would NOT be supporting a violent revolution no matter how bad Palpatine was. **

**Unless Palpatine was about to commit mass genocide on his own people, there was no way Organa would actually be willing to sacrifice innocent lives in a war to get rid of him.**


	20. S01 Ep20

_"We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin." - Andre Berthiaume_

* * *

**-Starkiller-**

**-Back at HQ-**

Assembled were the highest ranking officers of the current army. Harbinger, Kota, and Falon. Starkiller had hoped to gather a few more by now, namely Bail Organa, but he had declined. However, an odd occurrence arose in the arrival of an ally at the same time as the loss of one. A person by the name of 'Xena' had been messaging Starkiller and this individual was one of the topics of discussion.

Falon looked over the messages. Starkiller had been keeping dialogue with Xena since first contact. Xena was largely silent, but a day earlier the person had sent a message made up only of numbers. PROXY said they were most likely coordinates, judging from the formatting.

"We can assume this person is female." Falon mused. "Xena is the name of a mythological warrior princess from ancient times. Do you know many woman who might have an interest in helping us?"

"Only Juno." Starkiller answered. The only other woman Starkiller knew by any association was Ti and Leia Organa. The first was dead and the second had declined to support him.

"Then can you think of any reason why this woman would come to know of your messaging address?"

"No, I don't know why."

Kota said, "Until we can figure out how, it would be best to get you a new datapad and a new address for messaging. The current one is compromised."

"I'll stop by the warehouse after this." Starkiller allowed. "But what do you think, Jedi? Would you say she is trustworthy?"

Falon glanced back at the datapad and sighed. "At first glance, I want to say yes. I sense no danger in the Force. However it is peculiar to be randomly sending you coordinates."

"At the very least it is worth looking into." Kota said. "Whatever is at these coordinates may give us a clue as to the purposes behind this mystery woman, and what she wants from us."

"I don't want to waste my time with a goosehunt." Starkiller declined.

"That is why we have teams, after all." Kota smiled. "Do we have any to spare, Falon?"

Falon hummed in thought. "Ghost, Specter, and Phantom are all busy integrating into society and gathering intel. Wraith is busy establishing an active resistance to the Empire. Shade is the only one not busy at the moment. I can send them."

"Speaking of teams, how are they progressing?" Starkiller asked.

"I have reports ready and will present them shortly when we are done with this subject." Falon nodded.

"You have faith Team Shade will investigate the coordinates without being caught? I don't know what is there, but I do know it is within the Empire." Kota asked.

"I have full faith in them, master. The leader is Teiwaz Galru. You know him."

"Oh, yes. He's good." Kota acknowledged.

"Then we can conclude this mission?"

"I'll dispatch Team Shade asap." Falon nodded. "I may have to move Team Ghost to extract, they are the closest team with mobility."

"Can they afford to leave Mandalore?" Starkiller asked. He didn't know much, but he did know the team was stationed on Mandalore.

"For a short time, it won't be a problem. Just means asking a neighbor to watch the apartment for the weekend while they go on 'vacation'."

Ah, so that's how it works. Enlightening.

Falon pulled out folders. "As for the progress of the teams, here is what we currently have." He passed them to Starkiller and he looked them over. "I have already aprised Master Kota of their progress."

The first team, Ghost, was stationed on Mandalore with a simple recon mission. Mandalore was a highly patriotic system with a turbulant history of government shifting hands over a people who have the resolve to stand up for themselves. A natural place to instill resistance, and that is what the Empire knows as well. Mandalore is very valuable for its metal, its ships, its warriors, and its position, and the Empire had placed a massive garrison over the plane to keep the peace.

Ghost had set themselves up with an apartment and done a number of small missions. The missions included mostly theft and listening in on Imperial transmissions.

Two pieces of information of note was of the Honorary Imperial System and the Dutchess. The former was a system that was being forced onto the local Mandalorian soldiers, and they were being sent to serve the Empire. The latter was rumored to be in an Imperial prison, but no one knew where.

Ghost is requesting to sabatage the local Imperial academy to free the Mandalorian soldiers that were being procurred against their will, and to look deeper into the location of the dutchess.

Falon had replied to wait until reinforcements were possible and to investigate the Dutchess' disappearance carefully.

Falon made special notes that sabataging this academy was important to making a politicial statement and would probably gain them subtantial support from the Mandalorians.

Starkiller was inclined to agree. It didn't sound hard, but then he would leave that up to Kota to decide.

Starkiller closed the first folder and opened the second.

Team Spectre under Orda, Mars, and Bellona. It was assigned to Nar Shadaa along with team 4, Wraith, under Barboratos and Trebor. Spectre and Wraith were assigned to take advantage of the Cartel-Empire conflict on Nar Shadaa on both sides. Spectre would infiltrate the Cartel in the chaos and steal technology and intel. Wraith would teach the local gangs gorilla op tactics to hold out, steal supplies and intel and anything they can get their hands on, and generally be a nuisance. The secondary goal of Wraith was to win over some of the groups to join Harbinger.

From the progress reported, it was going well. Barboratos had infiltrated a gang, taught them, and managed to win a sector, and was in progress of reaching out to surrounding gangs as well. Falon's response was to be cautious, as being too big of a problem would gain the Empire's undivided attention. Spectre was finding the Imperial response to be curious, as they were using gentle tactics in helping the civilians through tough times.

"Does the Empire usually do this?" Harbinger asked. He specified where he was in his reading.

"Depends." Kota replied. "The soldiers do not decide policy, but they are generally reasonable when met on neutral terms. It's the officers and higher that are scum and dictate how they treat people. With the one in charge being the Grand Moff, I can't say I am surprised by his methodolgy. He has a reputation for being merciful and ruthless depending on what he wants to get out of it. Never met the man in person, but I recall him to be overly logical in the Clone Wars. If he is having his men take a gentle approach with the people, it is most likely to win over loyalty, gain public support, and quell rebellion."

Kota tapped his fingers on the table in thought. "What worries me more is his ruthless streak. If this gentle approach doesn't work, he may turn around and make some examples. We may need to rush the Nar Shadaa op."

Falon frowned, "You fear he will show his ugly side soon?"

"With us poking the bear, oh yes. Wraith is proving resilient, and that is not something he will stand for. But what I fear more is his response to the people. Wraith knows they may die on this op, but I don't want to get the people involved if he decides to do an orbital strike."

Falon shuddered, "The casualities would be in the millions! Surely no Moff would be so heartless as to do that on a planet even more populated than Coruscant!"

"No Moff is like him." Kota replied.

"I know nothing about him, is he as bad as he sounds?" Starkiller asked.

Kota thought it over. "I remember one report in the clone wars. He was making a tactical retreat once and had his stragglers stay behind to die. He claimed it was logical, and that he had managed to save more lives that way than others would have in being slowed down. He was right about the statistics and numbers, but the way he presented his argument got under my skin."

Starkiller felt his hands clench tightly under the table. That… bastard. The thoughtless use of loyalty. If men sacrificed themselves willingly, that was one thing, but if the Moff was as disrespectful as this towards so many followers and cast them aside without second thought, then he was no better than Palpatine.

Starkiller remembered back to the last time he had seen Vader. He had been loyal. He had been willing to sacrifice himself to serve his purpose in life and be Vader's pawn.

"What is his name?" Starkiller asked.

"Tarkin."

Starkiller made a mental note to add him to his death list. First, Vader. Second, Palpatine. Third, Tarkin. Not necessarily in that order.

Starkiller finished the second set of documents. Team Spectre had found two facilities on Nar Shadaa with vast amount of intel. The first was supposedly abandoned in the war and was periodically patrolled by stormtroopers. The second was held by a private corporation hired by the Hutts. There was also confirmed intel on a type of shuttle developed by the Hutts that would allow them to bypass Imperial hyperspace dampening fields.

Starkiller closed it and set it aside. "So what to do about Wraith and Spectre? They are your teams, Jedi, but I want to know what you have in mind."

"I will have Wraith do one last massive strike on a port." Falon explained. "From there they should be able to procure transport and steal the prototypes that can break the blockade. The technology will be useful in getting them out, and will come in handy for us in the long run."

"Agreed." Kota nodded.

"At the same time, I'll have Spectre go after the first facility. It is near the port, so they can rendezvous easily enough. It is much too risky to go after the full corporation." Falon continued. "I had originally planned for them to bury themselves deeper and be an even bigger thorn, but Master Kota's arguments are valid. We don't want to make Tarkin mad and start butchering people."

Starkiller frowned. He didn't like it. Pulling out just because a bastard was temporarily being nice? They going to pull out on every nice Imperial officer? "We're here to fight a war, not let them win just because they are planting flowers and sucking up."

Kota argued, "It is not that. Rather, his kind of focus is a small time window to be used. It means we can get out easier, and fight another day. Already the noose is being squeezed around Nar Shadaa. Besides, we can't use intel and technology we can't successfully escape with."

Starkiller considered that. It was true, they had access to some bits of intel and tech, but could only use it if the teams could get out with it. "Very well, I can see your argument." He opened the third set of documents. "By the way, old man. This is the sound of me flipping pages."

The blind man smirked, "Cheeky brat."

If there was any team Starkiller could be considered partial to, it was team 3, under Juno. He didn't bother remembering who her ally was. Her mission was to infiltrate an orbital shipyard and get a list of IFF tags.

"What is an IFF tag?" Starkiller asked.

"IFF tags are used to identify ships." Kota explained. "You can't physically look out the window and see them, and hope to not crash into them when you are moving faster than the speed of light. So all ships broadcast a signal called an IFF-tag to identify themselves. It is law that all ships have them and broadcast them continuasly when in operation. The ones that don't are considered smugglers and pirates and spies. A ship not broadcasting an IFF-tag is basically invisible to common radar."

"Can it be used to sneak past blockades?"

The Jedi shook his head. "Only invisible to common radar. Military grade or powerful ones will still find you."

"So how does this op help us?" Starkiller wondered.

Kota smiled, "Because IFF-tags are also transmitted across the holonet so shipping companies, checkpoints, and so on can keep track of their shuttles across the galaxy. We may not have access to the military channel, but if we spoof the tags ourselves or have a database of shuttles that deal exclusively with Imperial military, then we can monitor their movement across the galaxy."

Starkiller let that sink in. It felt huge, almost an overwhelming realization. They could know the movements of the military?

From Kota's lessons on basic warfare, then intelligence and maneuverability were the biggest assets. This would give them a distinct advantage.

"Granted," Kota continued. "It is only a small portion. This is the only shipyard we are monitoring, and we will only have access to a few warehouses. The best we can do right now is get the tags of a few juicy targets to ambush."

Okay… so perhaps this wasn't as good as Starkiller thought. But the idea was still intriguing.

"I won't have her targeting civilians." Falon stated.

"And we won't." Kota nodded. "That is why I suggested this shipyard to you. It has a lot of contracts with the Empire. A number of ships will be exclusively for the Imperial military, and that same military will use the shipyard for repairs. Those are our targets."

Starkiller finished reading. Juno had not gotten far. She was having to work slowly through the ranks of the business from the ground up, and she wouldn't push too fast to avoid getting attention. She would work with determination, and take what promotions she could get, but not be begging for it. She would let her work speak for itself.

If her skill as a technician was anything like her piloting, it wouldn't take long at all. She was the best pilot he knew. Starkiller knew he was biased. He had an appreciation for her and considered her one of his few friends, so it was good to know she was alive and well, albeit annoyed by her partners… habits.

Starkiller would need to remember to pass along a message that he missed her company. He had never drank, as it was something Vader despised, but it was something he had seen the soldiers doing here (and Kota to excess) and he found himself considering it. Perhaps he could allow himself to drink and let loose for the first time if she was there. She was really the only one he could trust not to take advantage of his position if he finds himself a little tipsy.

The final set of documents covered Team Shade. This was the team Falon mentioned had finished their op and would move to investigate the coordinates given to them by their mysterious friend, Xena.

Apparently Shade had been assigned to gaining the attention of the local pirates. Harbinger's current hq was inside a deep space zone, and all of these zones were home to pirates. It was partially this fact that gave the Hutts their homefield advantage as they allowed the zones to exist more than any other nation around them, considering many of the pirates worked for the Hutts.

Not all of the pirates though.

Seems Shade had let themselves get ambushed, but fought back, killed the ambushers, and used the intel from the stolen ship to find out where the local pirate lord was. There were details written about the ship taken, but Starkiller didn't much care about that page.

Starkiller asked, "Do we know the name of this pirate lord?"

"Loser."

Starkiller snorted in amusement. "Are you serious?"

"Very serious. His name is Loser."

Kota managed to contain his laughter, though his lips still curled into a smile. "Curious name. Does he have a losing streak?" Falon shrugged. "Doubt it, he wouldn't stay a pirate lord if he screwed up. We should expect this 'Loser'-" Starkiller guffawed. "To be more than what he sounds like."

Starkiller shook his head and smiled. It was an ironic name, and he appreciated good irony. He put his feet up on the table. "So… what's the plan with this intel?"

"We have the location of his base?" Kota asked.

"Yeah."

Kota turned towards Starkiller. "Like to say hi?"

Starkiller smiled darkly. "Sure. Always in a mood for new friends." Starkiller didn't know what Kota had in mind, but it had to be more fun than what he had been doing on Kashyyyk.

Kota stood and pushed his chair under the table. "So here is the plan. Harbinger will infiltrate the pirate base and force the pirate to submit or die. Either way we can go by pirate code and take the forces into our army to be used in bigger ops."

"That how pirates work?"

"Most. It's about being alpha." Kota explained. "As for you Falon, carry on. The teams are doing well."

"Are you sure you can trust the pirates even if you make them submit?" Falon wondered.

"Nope." Kota said immediately.

* * *

**-Leia Organa-**

**-En Route to the Core Worlds-**

Leia finished her work on her console and shut the lid. Or, rather, she almost did. Her hand was on the top to close it when she saw she was receiving a transmission. The ID was her father.

"Hello, daddy." She answered with a smile.

"There's my warrior princess." The man smiled in turn. He always had a twinkle in his eye when he called her that. She had grown up fiercely independent and with the backbone of a soldier in addition to the strong resolve to do what was right. She spent half of her life making her parents proud and the other half scaring them to early-grey hair. It didn't help that she was opinionated and saught the truth herself rather than let it be spoon-fed to her. It was a wonder Leia had not ended up 'disappeared' like so many other of her friends were.

Knowing the timing, her father would undoubtedly be on that subject.

"What you did back there was very risky, Leia."

She could have him timed down to a T. She struggled not to sigh. She kept her body language respectful even if it was difficult for her as an older teen. "Which part?"

"Attending the xeno-march. That part. You know Palpatine has eyes on us and wouldn't approve of your attendance."

"You put that as though we are bowing to his every whim." She fired back, a bit heatedly.

"Not at all, but you have to realize this counter-move on his part was because of it. I had to pull a lot of contacts to get you back."

Naturally. Leia expected some kind of threat. However, what her father failed to see was that his methods didn't work while hers did. So why bring it up as though he did anything? Granted, she wasn't dismissing the fact that he had tried, but his attempts had failed. His methods didn't bring her safety. She had gotten herself out of that mess with her methods and using what was at her disposal.

You can't fight back in the Empire by kissing feet and begging.

"I'm sorry I scared you, dad." She really was sorry. She hated seeing them worry and scared, but she couldn't just sit back and do nothing. Why didn't they get that? She felt caged by the very idea of it. "But if I had a chance to go back, I would do it again."

"You say that because you know you come out of it alive and intact."

"No… I say that because the xeno-march would have ended in blood if someone hadn't stepped in and gotten both sides talking." She stayed patient. "One of these days there is going to be a peaceful march for liberty and Palpatine is going to have them all murdered."

"You can't know that!" Her father raised his voice. Whether it was surprise that she would say such a thing, worry from possibly agreeing and not wanting it to be so, or was just very strongly against the idea of her getting involved in such a thing (or perhaps all three), she couldn't say.

"You are right. Let us hope my guess is as far-fetched as it seems." Leia let the conversation drop. Trying to continue would get them nowhere. She loved him dearly, but they had very opposite views in some matters. Namely in what should be done about the more extreme stances the Empire is taking on matters that were considered at one time obvious and barbaric.

She allowed the conversation to change into more gentle topics, such as the beauty of Kashyyyk and the affairs of court. Seems one of her cousins was getting married (yet again), and a nephew was begging for her (as the favorite aunt) to be at his birthday. The cousin was getting married to a blonde bombshell of a supermodel (a change from the blonde daughter of a banker and the blonde stripper), and her dad suggested getting the nephew a robot toy as a present. It seemed he was into modern anime.

Talking about her cousin was mundane and disappointing. Talking about the nephew was interesting and nostalgic, but in the end it was not them that was on her mind at present.

"I am curious, daddy. Did the Harbinger strike a nerve with you?" Leia asked when they had quieted a bit.

Her father's body language did not change, but there was a… sadness in his eyes. It was a look like what she had seen when the Harbinger had said his piece and left.

Leia frowned. "What's wrong?"

The greying man sighed and let his composure shatter. He bowed his head and ran his fingers through his hair. He suddenly looked much older than he was. "I must admit… it affected me. It is a unique experience to encounter a man who is bold enough to call me a coward to my face."

"At least without being an ignorant raving lunatic." Leia smiled.

He smirked a tiny bit and nodded in agreement, but he was still down. "I've heard much of what he has said in my mirror and in my talks with your mother… but it wasn't the words that hit me, but rather the pain I felt behind them."

Leia had felt it too. The man had been betrayed once, and judging from his focus it had been the Empire.

"I have heard the same voice in so many soldiers. Soldiers that give up everything. Family, lives, their very sanity, and in turn are tossed aside as trash. It's the same voice I heard in Kota once… and I always remember the purge." The pain in his eyes grew.

"Dad?" Leia asked worriedly. "What are you talking about?"

"I never told you… did I?" He asked absently. "Your mother forbid it. It was just before you were born… but when the Jedi were slaughtered… I was there."

"What?!" Leia asked in surprise. She had known there was a purge before her birth, and the Jedi were part of it. But… for him to be an eyewitness? That gave the matter all new weight.

"I was just there to meet a friend." He explained. "I parked. I sat and waited, read a story, waited longer. Then some soldiers came up and said I needed to go on my way. I protested, and they put guns in my face. I didn't know what the matter was, but I realized something serious was up and it was best left to the military. As I started to leave, a child ran out of the temple. A young Jedi. The soldiers engaged and the child retaliated, killing a few, but inevitably falling dead. I barely got out."

Leia could only stare into the monitor.

Children? Children were involved in the Jedi Purge? Adults at least could be considered implicit in the conspiracy, but children…

That was unforgivable.

Leia ground her teeth together and seethed.

Distantly, she felt it. It was like an emptiness all around her. Something was crying out in pain. It was much like what she had felt in Harbinger's presence, but this was so much stronger. It was like a thousand voices were crying out. They cried out, not in words, but in a feeling that mimiced words. 'Why? Why were we (the innocent) hurt?'

The feeling overwhelmed her briefly, and she struggled to focus on the conversation she was having, but she was just… so angry! They needed justice! She had to do something! Anything!

Her lamplight blew.

She jumped and yelped in surprise. The room fell into darkness, illuminated solely by the monitor before her. Her father observed her worriedly. "Are you okay?"

Leia looked to him wide-eyed and a bit shocked. She was sweating like she had run a triathlon, panting, and more than a little confused. Whatever it was she had felt, it was overwhelming.

Her confusion gave way to amusement and she laughed. "Damn bulb blew."

He chuckled. "Well, that sounds like a good note to end this day off on. I bid you goodnight."

"Good night, daddy." She turned off the screen, and thinking nothing more of the experience she had gone through, left to find a light bulb. She considered it to be nothing more than a fit of passion. She was prone to them as well as odd feelings.

* * *

**-Starkiller-**

"I do assume you have a plan, old man." Starkiller wondered outloud.

"The basics of one, yes." Kota replied. As usual he was his relaxed self sitting at this barstool installed on their personal shuttle. PROXY was the pilot and Jowwarr was in the background.

Starkiller really needed to name the ship if they were going to continue to use it.

Kota asked, "Do you know what makes a pirate a pirate, boy?"

Starkiller scratched his head. "They are barbarians that kill innocent people?"

"No. Well…" Kota corrected himself, "They may kill, but that is not a qualifier for being a pirate. And do you even know what a barbarian is?"

"Someone stupid?"

Kota sighed. "Okay, you don't know what a real barbarian is either." Starkiller glared at him, but couldn't refute the statement without pulling out a dictionary. "Barbarian started as nothing more than a racist remark, but it has evolved to refer to someone who destroys technology and culture. A conqueror is considered civilized if they respect the technology and culture of the nations conquered, and incorporate it. Barbarians just burn everything and move on."

"What does that have to do with pirates?"

"Nothing really, just so you understand the word you chose to throw out. However, I do think there is a connection between barbarianism and the Empire if you think about it."

Starkiller pondered that. From what he had encountered thus far, the Empire had little respect for other nations and deemed them lesser. From his impression of Palpatine, it was a fitting comparison. "So Palpatine is a barbarian?"

"I would say so, but that determination is up to politicians. The argument could be that since the nations conquered are considered 'lesser' and barbaric, then it is actually the Empire enlightening them rather than the other way around. Yet the utter disregard for knowledge, culture, and religion of the conquered lands is still a trait associated with barbarians."

"Then what makes it so difficult an argument?" Starkiller wondered. "Sounds clear to me. Kill something without respect for it, and you insult yourself just as much as it."

Kota raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Interesting idea coming from a Sith boy."

Starkiller scoffed, "Just because I have killed many for Vader doesn't mean I didn't respect the prey. It takes loyalty to put your life on the line for something, and that applies to both my allies and enemies. I won't insult my allies by taking away that choice, and I won't insult my enemies by saying it isn't a trait I respect."

Kota considered him a moment, and raised himself up. "You seem to have a thing for loyalty an awful lot. You spoke of it fervantly to Organa as well."

Starkiller said nothing, but felt he was being analyzed. He didn't like it.

"And you have such extreme anger and need for revenge on the Empire…" Kota hesitated. "How badly were you betrayed, boy?"

Starkiller still said nothing. Most conversations he was fine with, and would humor the old man with almost anything… but this struck him too close to home.

"Must have been bad… as fervantly as you believe in loyalty… you must have been very loyal. Perhaps even loved your master."

Starkiller flinched and glared at him fervantly. He spat, "I hate him!"

"Hate is an extreme emotion… just as love is." Kota stated. "If you didn't care to begin with, then it wouldn't mean so much when reversed." Starkiller turned his back to the old man and hunched in on himself. "Perhaps I am reading a bit much into it, but for what its worth, I am sorry."

Starkiller was done with the conversation. He said nothing, and Kota sensed he had pushed him far. He allowed the silence to overtake them for a time before resuming. He knew Starkiller would listen, regardless of his mood. The boy was very attentive to everything. "It is important that you understand what a pirate is, though. A pirate is a member of a crew that attacks or steals from other ships while having no association with any nation."

Kota put up a bunch of fingers, partially for his own help in keeping track. "There are many kinds of armies. The primary army is one associated directly with a nation and acts solely on the wishes of generals and commanders with tons of red-tape from kings and presidents all in order to ensure that the general 'rules' are followed to keep them as being 'holy' in the eyes of justice. That's a simple army."

"The second type is rebels or terrorists. They act on the behalf of governments rather than directly through the chain of command. The difference being whether they follow the 'rules' just as much as everyone else. If you don't, you're a terrorist. If you do, you're labeled a terrorist just because your enemy is a pig-sucking butt-muncher but are most likely a rebel. It is important to understand they act on behalf of governments as well, since it is almost illegal for a government itself to be considered a terrorist. They 'fund' terrorists, they are not terrorists themselves. Their targets are politicially based."

"The third type is mercenary and private security. They work for individuals, both governmental or not, and are directly paid to do something regardless of allegiance. Private security are just bodyguards. They are meant to protect something and are required to have licenses from the government as a private army. The mercenary is very similar, but is sent on a variety of missions rather than just protection."

"The fourth type is pirate and privateer. Similar to mercs and private security, they are a private army. Their mission is exclusively to raid, loot, plunder, and utterly dominate a region like bandits. Pirates do it for themselves like a gang. Privateers, though, do it with protections from the local government in return for being taxed a portion… and are even hired like mercs."

Starkiller had listened attentively, and while he saw differences, it was a lot of information to take in all at once. Still, he appreciated the old man sticking to the important details. "Then what is the difference between a pirate and terrorist? Or a privateer and mercenary?"

"Mostly agenda. Technically a pirate is a pirate as long as they do as I said, but the moment they openly state they have a political agenda… they are a terrorist."

Starkiller nodded.

"As for the second question… think of it like an equilibrium. You have privateer on one side, merc in the middle, and private security on the other side. All three are hired in the same way, but the 'missions' they do are different. Privateers are criminal, mercs vary, and private security is mostly legal."

Kota continued, "The reason this lesson is important for you to get now is because I have a suspicion we are not dealing with pirates, but privateers."

Starkiller considered that. If the group they were going to meet had allegiances, they most likely would be more agreeable for first contact. This changed things slightly, but he wasn't sure how. "What makes you say that?"

"First, they didn't come after us too much after first contact. Granted, we killed a bunch of their men in self-defense, which I think was a bit of a dumb move in hindsight. I would have insisted the team use a different method to gain attention. Because that should have pissed them off, yet we remain untouched. Second, this region has proximity to the Hutts as well as the Empire and if you have been watching the news, the Hutts and Empire are building up to a larger conflict."

Starkiller had been watching the news. The Hutts are marshalling a small army and the Empire wasn't too happy with that. The conflict would be small, merely a few major assault-class ships out of the thousands they have, little more than a skirmish, but it was bigger than what Starkiller had intended when he started the conflict over Jabba's Palace.

Starkiller had the distinct impression the galaxy was a stick of dynamite, and he had gone and ignited the fuse. Not sure if that was something he was supposed to feel giddy about.

"What does proximity to Hutts have to do with it?"

"Just that the Hutts have a deep history of hiring nothing but mercenaries and privateers. They have no legal army. Too much redtape and background checks and documentation for their criminal ways. They are the Cartel for a reason."

"Makes sense." Starkiller packed that information away later for consideration. He felt he was getting a headache. He loved how Kota taught him on the fly so much and made him think, but it tended to result in headaches. "How long until we get in contact with them?"

"Depends on how long before they receive our broadcast." Kota replied. "I told your pilot to keep us moving around this region and to broadcast a white-flag and desire to speak with the pirate lord: 'Loser' on behalf of a Jedi Master. They will get back to us when they get back to us."

"Didn't we agree that you are to be top-secret?! Why the hell would you broadcast your existance!" Starkiller barked, suddenly infuriated.

Kota took his moodswing in patience. "If I am to be on your staff in your cabinet, then I have to engage with your clients and the highest leaders of your allies. If I am to help you with 'talking' to people, then that means engaging. So this changes nothing. Second, by stating I am a Jedi, it creates a good cover for various options in engaging in talks. We're like medics in the eyes of the galaxy until lately, in that the law shared by everyone is: you don't touch them, because they are looking out for your best interest just as much as their own. So they will see it as being a peaceful, diplomatic talk and that will decrease the odds of them just blowing us out of the sky at first sight. You may be strong, but you are still dependant on the armor plating all around us. Without that there is no oxygen or transportation, and then let's see you fix that with the Force. If you can fix that, even Palpatine would kiss your feet."

Kota, as he talked, walked out to the fridge (had to raise his voice while back there), grabbed a bottle of alchohol, returned to his seat, took a massive gulp, placed it back on the bar stool, and propped his feet up. "Any more questions?"

Starkiller scoffed. Why did the old man have to be so logical? It was supposed to be simple. The man was to be top-secret… inevitably it became complicated enough for the old man to argue a loophole with… even though Starkiller himself had stated he wanted him as his advisor and on his cabinet and to do the talking for him until he could manage himself.

Starkiller admitted, "No, but regardless of how you want to argue it, if the Empire catches wind of you, we die." Admitting defeat to the old man felt like shoving a pinecone up his ass.

"And I assure you, that is something we can agree with as something bad."

Starkiller felt the conversation had taken its natural ending. "I'm going to do some mild training." He left the room to do some exercises while he waited.

"You do that." Kota waved. "Wake me up when its time."


	21. S01 Ep21

**"Revenge is not a noble sentiment, but it is a human one." -Rudy Giuliani**

* * *

**-Starkiller-**

Starkiller pushed himself back up with his fingers. The weights on his feet made his legs feel like rubber, and every muscle leading up from his finger tips to his toes hurt, but he disregarded the burning sensation and continued to do one-handed upside-down pushups. With his eyes closed, he focused on simple meditation.

An exercise such as this was nearly impossible for a normal person, and was extraordinarily difficult for even the most athletic, dexteritous, and acrobatic weight lifter. Starkiller considered himself athletic and arobatic, but he also had the Force on his side. This exercise was not just meant to train his muscles or sense of balance while on one hand or his concetrantion from having blood rushing to his head, but also his ability to fuel all of the before-mentioned parts of his body and mind with the Force.

His training in the Force was balanced across many areas specializing in combat and assassination. He had techniques in using shadows, lightning, and momentum, but where he truly specialized more than all of this was augmentation and enhancement. He was on the border of being an older teen or young adult, and he could keep up with the greatest of Jedi Masters many times his age, experience, and strength, purely because he had a body that used the Force to make up for that.

Using momentum techniques such as Pull and Push or Hold/Grip were great at all, lightning was lethal and flashy, and shadow was stealthy, but all of it had a simple weakness: The user was mortal. Starkiller was flesh and bone as much as everyone else. The Force was unlimited but the user was weak.

He needed to move faster, swing harder, and have the dexterity to spin on a dime if he was going to keep up with Vader's expectations. If anything, it was specifically because Vader was focused entirely on augmentation and momentum techniques that Starkiller would naturally follow. Vader was a middle-aged man inside of a suit of armor that BARELY kept him alive one moment from the next, yet he was faster than speeders, could block hundreds of laser bolts almost simultaneously, and had the punch of a truck. Vader used the Force to augment his body to the point that he could go above and beyond what could be expected for his condition.

Starkiller felt the Force build within him, and he let it fester. The Dark Side coiled within him like a snake, and he kept it down tight. Tighter and tighter it spun, it burned, it yearned to be free, and it built up strength in doing so. Starkiller let it build, then it released it slowly… not outward, but rather inward. He let it wash over his body like a wet vapor. His cells filled with burning energy, hardened, and his mind sharpened to the point that the world slowed around him and he could focus on every part of his body at once.

With one slow, fluid motion, he bent his fingers and his elbow until his nose touched the metal flooring. He kept his back straight and bent his knees while lowering his legs at the waist. All of his balance was on five fingers as he curled into the shape of a shrimp. Then slowly he reversed the whole thing until he was straight as a rod. Sweat poured off him from this one motion and he felt his limbs shake.

He started to do the motion a second time when a chime from the intercom interrupted his concentration. IT was PROXY. "Master, we have a ship nearby and are being hailed. Shall I answer?"

Starkiller sighed and let himself fall. He collapsed onto the floor. He enjoyed the feeling of a cold metallic floor on his sweaty bare chest.

"Master?"

"Yes, PROXY. I'm on my way." Starkiller answered. "Just… give me a moment."

Kota said something. It sounded distant throught the intercom. (Most likely sitting on his barstool.) "You didn't go and push yourself too hard from boredom, did ya' boy?"

Starkiller tried to get up and argue, but winced when his body protested. "Maybe."

Kota growled in aggravation. "Don't make yourself useless in your drive to overcome some invisible obstacle!... Now get your ass up here."

"Aren't you supposed to be drunk by now?" Starkiller shot back. He forced his aching body to get up and put his Harbinger armor and clothes on. He grabbed his helmet from the intable and nudged Jowwarr. The Wookie had been sleeping in the corner. The big guy just grumbled sleepily, looked up at him with one eye, and nodded before following a few seconds later.

Starkiller hesitated just before reaching the bridge. If they had established comms already, it might have a visual. Just to be safe, he donned the helmet of the Harbinger and entered. There was no visual, it turned out, but he kept the helmet on anyway. It sounded like they would be in business.

He made sure to kick Kota's legs as he passed. The old man was sprawled across the passage way. The chair on which Kota sat on spun in the process and the old man barely managed to slam his hand down to stop his momentum and keep from having his face planted into a panel. "Well, aren't you in a good mood."

"You needed to wake up." Starkiller smiled under his helmet. Even without eyes, Kota managed to mimic the motion of rolling his eyes.

Surprisingly, there were no bottles of alchohol. "Well, this is a first. No booze?"

"I have it hidden in a secret compartment. Don't you worry." Kota smirked. He nodded in PROXY's direction.

"Right, PROXY. Establish comms."

"On it, Master!"

"Would you like to do the talking, old man?"

"Sure. Wouldn't want their first contact to be a young man with no hair on his..." Kota coughed into his hand. Jowwarr burst out in laughter.

Starkiller had the distinct impression he was being insulted, but didn't understand the reference.

PROXY put its hand up, gaining their attention, and counted down with its fingers from five to 0. "Are you reading me?" The person on the other end of the comm asked.

So they didn't have a visual. That was pleasant. Starkiller removed his helmet.

After a brief silence, Kota stepped forward and leaned against PROXY's pilot seat. "We are reading you loud and clear. I am-"

"You will follow us. You will cut off all transmissions. You will lower power to a minimum and turn off both reflective shields and weapons." The person on the other end stated abruptly.

Starkiller bristled. He shook his head no, then remembered Kota can't see it. Thankfully, he didn't have to. Kota didn't like it any better than he did.

"And just why would I do that?"

"Loser wants to speak with you."

Without further ado, the transmission was cut, and their 'friend' turned the ship around and slowly moved away. It stopped at a far enough distance, at such a slow pace, as to say 'Follow'.

"I don't like this." Starkiller said.

Kota frowned, but didn't respond. Starkiller asked, "What?"

"Did you notice the accent?"

"What accent?"

"Well, probably not something you would notice, but when you have my years, its little things like that which u pick up. People have accents based on the culture in which they grew up, the language they learned most, and their species." Kota pointed to the terminal. "That person had a clear Mandalorian accent, human, and spoke very clear basic. People who speak predominantly Mando'a have thicker consonants."

"What does it mean? A mandlorian privateer?"

Kota rubbed his chin in thought. "Makes sense, but then why speak predominatntly Basic?..." He shook his head. "I'm thinking too hard. PROXY, have us follow. Match their speed and path."

PROXY turned its head to Starkiller, and he nodded his consent. "Aye, sir!"

Kota returned to his barstool and put his feet up on the table. Starkiller pulled up a chair and sat across from him. "Old man, if something has you concerned, I want to hear it." Kota frowned. "Even if it is unlikely, I want to be prepared."

Kota sighed, but nodded. "The odds are likely we are looking at a Mandalorian who is in business with pirates or the hutts, I wouldn't even dispute the idea of a freedom fighter against the Empire. Another chance is that we are looking at a clone."

"A clone?" Starkiller wondered.

"The Imperial army is still comprised almost entirely of clones either left over from the Clone Wars, or a new batch. Every batch is more flawed than the previous, but the last I checked they are still being strained from the same Mandalorian DNA." Kota hummed in thought. "Though, it has been nearly twenty years, odds are they found another DNA to base the program on. Either way, the most prominent Mandlorian-types to have an accent like that are stormtroopers and Mando'a that worked in the Core worlds."

Starkiller didn't like it, but he also wasn't sure what this meant. "Bad?"

Kota shook his head. "I don't think so. Stormtrooper or not, they are privateers. I'm just over thinking things."

Starkiller turned his eyes to the front window and watched as they flew. Their 'friend' lead them on slowly through deep space. They had met in a very dense area. Once they were clear, they were provided coordinates to do a small Warp jump to a location nearby. By galactic terms, it was nothing more than taking one step. In deep space terms, where there are asteroids, black holes, wild space life, explosive nebulas, and the like, it was diving into the deeps.

Their 'friend' went into hyperspace first. PROXY confirmed they traveled the same trajectory they had ordered them to do. Kota said, "Do it. Keep your finger's crossed, boy."

"Jowwarr, cross your fingers for me." Starkiller ordered his Wookie. He smirked to see the Wookie already was. "Okay, fine. While we're all doing it." He went ahead and crossed his fingers. "PROXY, join in, its one giant finger-crossing."

PROXY did so, but commented, "Ah, yes. The crossing of appendages. An attempt at turning fate in your favor through ignorant means."

"I think it just called you stupid, old man."

Kota grunted.

They entered hyperspace and exited seconds later to find themselves outside the cluster of asteroids. Instead they found themselves near the wreckage of what was an unidentifable Capital ship. Orbiting the wreckage was an old Clone-wars era Acclamator-class assault ship with a couple corvettes hovering around it.

"Master, we have received landing instructions to enter the wreckage." PROXY stated.

"How bad does it look out there?" Kota asked. Starkiller explained what he saw and Kota nodded. "He's done well for himself. To have an Acclamator is no small thing, but to have his homebase be the wreckage of a capital ship… be prepared, boy. This isn't just some nameless pirate."

Starkiller smirked. 'Good', he thought. 'I can't be bothered to waste my time with weaklings.'

"Master?" PROXY asked.

"Go ahead." Starkiller replied.

"Entering the wreckage now." PROXY confirmed.

Starkiller watched as they passed the Acclamator and entered the wreckage of the capital ship. It was truly massive. Starkiller used an Imperial ship comparible to a corvette and was incredibly wide and tall for its bulk, and his ship was still only 1/2 the height of a single hyper-drive engine of the massive leviathan. Capital ships often had between five and seven hyper-drive engines.

"PROXY," Starkiller said. "Stay with the ship. Use the persona of the Inquisitor again to hide your identity as a droid. Protect the ship."

"Understood."

"Old man, do you think it would be possible to steal their own guns?"

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that if things go bad, we wreck them. If we steal one of the guns from the wreckage, we should be able to make the Accalamator flee while we run."

Kota shook his head. "Your logic is flawed. Those same guns can just as easily be used on us."

Starkiller frowned. True, that thought hadn't occurred to him. "Then we just run after I do as much damage as I can."

"Let us hope it doesn't come to that." Kota whispered.

PROXY landed the ship, and Starkiller put on the persona of Harbinger. His mask fit around his skull and he covered himself in a hooded robe. Kota rose, stumbled, and held himself steady with a hand against the wall. Harbinger stared at him. "Can you walk? How drunk are you?"

Kota shot a glare at him, "I'm fine."

"Then let's go." Harbinger left the bridge. Jowwarr picked up his shields and followed. The door lowered and Harbinger found a number of pirates waiting for them with weapons at the ready. Jowwarr snapped into position in front of him with his shields up, but the pirates didn't fire. Instead another pirate, unarmed, walked through the crowd and stopped just before the ramp leading up to Harbinger's vessel. Kota stumbled his way behind them and stopped after bumping into him.

"What's the hold up?" Kota asked.

Harbinger shushed him, but otherwise didn't respond. He closely watched everyone. If they intended to attack him here isntead of out in open space thinking it would make it easier, they were dead wrong. However, he also had the impression this was just a precaution.

All the same, it was unnerving. Harbinger had spent his life in the mindset of being unseen. Witnesses are a liability and are to die. For him to be the center of attention in front of so many potential enemies was uncomfortable. However, he did not allow this discomfort to show. He kept his face pointing to the unarmed one, as he had the impression this one was a guy of importance.

Turns out he was right, "Loser is expecting you." The man said. "If you will follow me, Jedi."

The man turned and walked away, and Harbinger motioned for Jowwarr to stand down as they followed. He took Kota by the sleeve and tugged him along, and Kota transittioned to following by holding onto the young man's shoulder.

So they assumed Harbinger was a Jedi. A part of him burned at the thought. He was not a traitor, he was not a criminal. He was the one betrayed and was retalliating. There was a massive difference. Yet he felt it would be unwise to argue the sentiment. They had been broadcasting themselves to gain the attention of these pirates with the idea that they were Jedi, and so Jedi they would be. If questioned, then Harbinger would admit he was rather a Sith in league with a Jedi Master, and if they were to be having a problem or well-wishes with him, then it should be directed to Kota.

If these people wanted to assume he was a Jedi, he would let them, until that detail turns into a problem. A bolt of lightning should prove otherwise.

Their guide silently lead them along. Harbinger felt insulted they didn't think him worthy of being guarded. He could just kill the guide and disappear.

"Relax, boy. You are coiled up like a snake." Kota whispered.

Harbinger closed his eyes and did a brief breathing exercise. He was a bit tense. He wasn't scared, but his instincts were prepared for anything and the lack of precautions being made against them now were giving him a bad feeling.

The guide took them to an elevator and they entered in. Harbinger kept his senses on the alert. Would they blow him up within this iron cage?

The elevator opened two floors later, no danger.

The guide explained, "We have now entered the tram station. Capital ships such as these are so large that it requires a train system to access different sections. We will take one for a short trip to where the bridge is located."

"Understood." Harbinger said. "However, I am curious… if the tram system is functional, what other part of this capital ship is functional?"

The guide stopped before a small group of pirates standing guard at a terminal, and they hit keys to unlock a train. The door opened and the guide showed them in. "I am not at liberty to say how much of the ship is functional, but I am sure you saw for yourself the damage."

"In other words, some systems work, and some don't. I have to guess which are which." Harbinger translated.

The guide smiled, and said nothing. The door closed and the tram set off. Harbinger surveyed the tram, the guide, and the surroundings. The tram itself was empty, so possibly held explosives or was being lined up for a sniper shot. The outside of the tram track was wide enough, and had enough ramps and bridges under which they moved, to allow snipers or anyone with torpedo launchers. The guide himself was unarmed and completely relaxed, making him either skilled, insolent, or dumb.

Again, nothing happened.

The tram screeched to a halt two stations later, and the words 'Bridge' appeared on the overhead projector. The guide showed them out. Next was another elevator to another floor three floors above, followed by another much larger one with thirty floor options. This proved to be the final one was they were on the bridge level. The bridge level included accommodations for the VIP's, its own assortment of escape pods, and then the bridge room itself at the end of the long hall.

Still nothing happened, and Harbinger felt each moment of nothing taking a shot at him or trying to blow him up leave him progressively unnerved. There wasn't even very many guards anywhere! Half of the pirates he had seen thus far had all been in the hanger!

The bridge door opened for the guide. He showed them in, but Harbinger's eyes was on the man in the middle. He was very clearly different. Not that he was physically imposing, if anything, he couldn't see any part of his body. The man was covered in yellowish armor from head to toe, and had a cloak similar to that of what he himself wore. The man locked his gaze on Harbinger's mask, and Harbinger smirked. It was interesting to see a person who was as much hidden behind a mask as himself.

"With your lack of precaution, it is a wonder you are still in business." Harbinger commented.

"I could very well say the same about you, but then, I am myself the one with all the cards." Loser countered smoothly. "You broadcasted yourself openly to me to gain my attention, and so you did. However, it was also foolhardy. The Empire pays well for tips on Jedi." He pulled up a datapad. "In fact, as of 900 CT (Coruscant Time), a confirmed tip is 498,365 credits."

"Is that all?" Kota asked. He sounded down.

"Don't sound so depressed, that's just the tip. Your bounty before you were labeled dead was in the millions."

Harbinger grit his teeth. The man was right. He did have all the cards. One anonymous tip and his whole operation was in jeopardy. It was foolish to let Kota emit that broadcast, regardless of the old man's belief they could escape. Harbinger was fine with taking risks, but he didn't like the idea of being at a disadvantage.

Kota whistled with a wide smile, "That's more like it."

Harbinger wanted to smack him. For his part, Loser chuckled, "Well, you must excuse my confusion. The first I heard of you and your group was a corvette full of bodies. I can't have that, it's bad for business, but then… they were just idiots who wanted to usurp me." He stopped chuckling. "You wanted my attention, now you have it."

**-Lord Vader-**

**-Nar Shadaa-**

Lord Vader lifted his opponent up through the Force. The man struggled against him and grabbed at his neck as if held by hands, but there was nothing he could do. There were no hands. This was the Force.

"Where is the Jedi you harbor?" Vader demanded.

The man in Vader's grasp was a rebel terrorist. It was one of many small isolated groups split off from the gangs. The others from the group had been easy enough to kill, and Vader left this one for questioning. Vader didn't know his name or history, it didn't matter. There were rumors of a Jedi operating on Nar Shadaa, and he had no intention of letting it slip by.

The tip had come from Grand Moff Tarkin. The clue of a Jedi having moved to Kashyyk namely, and the clue lead them to assume it was a Jedi working for the Hutts. Or perhaps a Sith. Either way, it was a source of Force-users that could rival Vader, and was a traitorous scum.

The man in his grasp struggled to breathe. It would hardly do to have him answer without a windpipe, so Vader released his grip just enough for the man to be able to talk. Rather than squeeze his neck, he shoved the man down into the floor.

"Here is how this will work. You will tell me what you know, and I will kill you. If you don't, then I will take it from you, and I assure you the process is… unpleasent. Then I will kill you." To emphasis his point, Vader placed his hand over the man's head and roughly pierced into his mind. The man screamed in pain and agony, and Vader left as quickly as he had entered. He could take the memories, but then it would have a danger of not finding the correct ones before the man died.

"Okay! Okay! I'll tell you!" The man yelled.

Vader released his grip on the man ever so slightly.

The man took a moment to catch his breathe. "Okay, I'll tell you how to find the Jedi…"

"I'm listening." Vader stated in lessening patience.

"What you do is… you go to local pharmacy down the street… find a pretty thing named Jin, and ask for something called 'Viagra', then you use it to GO **** YOURSELF!" The man yelled. "WHAT THE HELL MAKES YOU THINK I'M GOING TO TELL YOU JACK AFTER WHAT YOU DID TO MY-"

Vader slammed his boot down on the man's hand. Between the weight, the metal, and his Force-augmentation, the man's hand was crushed. Suffice to say, he screamed.

"So, the hard way it is then." Vader lifted the man up by his neck and held his windpipe closed to quiet his screams. He entered the man's mind.

Unfortunately he didn't find anything about Jedi or Sith, but he did find something… interesting.

"'Whiskers', hmm." Vader murmured. Something to look into. Apparently it was a research project of some sort, and for some reason the memory was associated with his thoughts of Jedi and Sith. The man was breathing, but his mind was broken. He was nothing more than a drooling corpse that didn't know it was dead yet. Vader dropped him and departed.

Vader pulled up his gauntlet and transmitted a message to Tarkin. "I need the location of another band, preferably one that knows things. I have no desire to waste my time with these rebels."

**-Harbinger-**

**-In conference with Loser-**

"I'm in." Loser stated.

Harbinger stopped in mid-sentence and found himself opening and closing his mouth like a fish. He had expected a lot of things, but for him to barely get started in talking, and already the man was volunteering.

From Kota's slack jaw, he wasn't expecting it either.

"Pardon?" Haringer asked.

"I said I want in." Loser repeated, then he explained. "Some Jedi goes around looking for me, and you expect me to assume you don't have a reason? No. Either there is a problem with me or you want my help. Which is it?"

Harbinger still felt unsure what to make of it. The man was responding too easily. It was a fair assumption, but then his drive to join them… without knowing a single detail. It sent up a lot of flags in his mind.

Harbinger had intended to make a case, appease to his greed with bigger fish to go after, and, if that didn't work, just force him into submission. These people were pirates. He held no reservations that they would not join if forced. Later he would earn their loyalty, but the first step would have been ugly.

But for Loser to just jump in, without knowing a single detail, without knowing what he was jumping into, and making it seem logical, completely blew Harbinger's mind. He could practically feel the hamster wheel in his head coming to a halt because said hamster had to stop and stare.

"I-" Harbinger cleared his throat. "I am seeking allies."

"Great, lovely." Loser rubbed his hands together. "So who we gonna save?"

Harbinger could only stare.

"Uh…" Loser hesitated. "You are a Jedi Master, are you not?"

"Yes." Kota answered.

"And Jedi help people, yes?"

"Yes."

"Depends on who you ask." Harbinger whispered. He knew Jedi to be different then their old reputation. The Jedi had proven themselves criminals, not the loving kind they claimed to be.

"Then why are you confused?"

Kota stepped forward, "Pardon me, but it is very unusual for a pirate-"

"Smuggler." Loser corrected.

"-to jump in on a bandwagon without knowing the destination. You have no idea what we have planned, what our goals are, or how it may involve you, and you just volunteer?... And what do you mean smuggler?"

"I'm a smuggler. I do privateer work, but the mainstay of my business is smuggling." Loser chuckled.

"Never heard of you." Kota replied with concern.

Loser thrust out his chest in pride. "Then that just means I am good at my job. Smugglers with reputations are amateurs. Like that Han fellow…" Loser returned to the previous question, "But then, I guess it might be odd for you. Sorry about that, I've just been chomping at the bit to work for a Jedi! And one falls right into my lap no less! I haven't been this excited in years." He rubs his gloved hands together. "So, what do you want from me?"

Harbinger glanced to Kota and saw his concerned expression. Harbinger felt a bit more relaxed about the sudden volunteering, but it still did not make sense and left him uncomfortable. The guy was either a nut or just very… unusual.

Harbinger put his hand on Kota's shoulder and pulled back ever slightly. Kota got the message and stepped back as Harbinger stepped forward. This got Loser's attention, and Harbinger saw him direct his eyes fiercely on him. Thus far his attention had mostly been on Jedi Master Rahm Kota.

Harbinger said, "First, before I answer your question, I must ask one of my own. Specifically why are you so interested in working with a Jedi?"

Harbinger had the impression his reason was very personal if he was to react this way. Sick relative perhaps?

While Loser's face was hidden behind a metalic mask, Harbinger felt his composure darken heavily, and the man's eyes fell in memory. Briefly, he scanned the room. This made Harbinger curious. After a moment, Loser contented himself with those assembled, as if what he was about to say was secret on a personal level. He sighed.

"If it is that much of a concern to you, then I will answer." He reached up and removed his mask. What Harbinger saw made him cringe. Behind the mask, he had no skin. It was burned off. He had no lips and no cheeks so his teeth were openly revealed. "My name is Loser, but my designation at birth was E16-742. I served in the Clone Wars under a Jedi Master… I am a clone."

**-Loser-**

**-Years Ago-**

The war had gone on for what seemed a life time to Loser. Coincidentally it was the very thing he was born for.

What made it bearable was the company. Him, his brothers, their Jedi General. They were a close knit group. You had to be when each other was all you had. Turns out, the planet they had been sent to engage the enemy on was a peculiar one. While technology functioned fine, there was something about the atmosphere that ruined communication of all kinds. Short range and long range communication couldn't function. They had to resort to smoke signals and flags.

"How long do you think before the Republic remembers we are here?" Loser asked.

Him and his buddies sat in their foxhole. Their guns were strapped to their shoulders, and everything was quiet. They allowed themselves enough relaxation to talk. They were just outside basecamp after all.

"We have been here for years, Loser." One of his squad, and friends, replied. "Don't think they will remember anytime soon."

"You didn't go and touch the comm array did you?" Another teased Loser.

Loser huffed. "I told you that wasn't my fault."

"Hey, lay off the kid." Their captain said. "Its not the comm's fault it can't work here. We all know that." The captain burst out in a grin. "Now, if you went and touched the grenade stash, that would be epic. It would be a big show."

"Hey!" Loser barked.

They burst out in laughter. "One touch and BOOM!" They joked.

Loser had a reputation for screwing up. He tried proposing to a girl once while on vacation early on in the war. He got run over by a steed that wasn't even native to the planet. He tried again and got hit by an asteroid. He throws a grenade, and it bounces off the enemy's face to come back at him. The only reason he hadn't died was he managed to throw it again. His rifles and pistols regurally go off without warning. His armor belts snap lose and a few times it had resulted in his pants falling. He has never won a single round of poker, dice, or luck related games. He manages to get a good hand, and his rival gets a royal flush straight. He rolls a six and there is an earthquake that causes it to roll to a one.

His nickname as well earned.

In the end, the Jedi Master had decided to station him primarily in inventory. He was good with numbers and calculation and keeping track of things. While his military prowess was comedic, his ability to manage a large scale inventory, keep track of every package, and keep them fully stocked and able to function even without supplies coming from the Republic, more than made up for it.

Without access to space travel they had to resort to trading regurally with the locals. They destroyed, sabatageud, and stole from the Confederacy factory and used that as trade. They had the option to destroy the factory completely, but their Jedi Master, Elestria, had a better idea. The enemy commander was dead. The droids were without direction. They were wild. They could destroy it, or, leave it to the locals to reprogram and use for their own defense. In the meantime the clone army would be stationed there and assist the locals.

And wait.

"I just wish we could get out of here eventually… its boring." Loser complained.

"Buck up, soldier." A voice replied. "Its not that bad. Enjoy the peace while it lasts."

Loser looked up to find their Jedi Master looking down on them. Elestria was a woman, and had all the traits expected of a good one. Gentle, compassionate, beautiful. He would even say sexy, but that would be sexual harassment, and she had long ago shown she only saw them all as friends and comrades.

"Y-yes maam." He stammered. His helmet kept his heavy blush from showing.

She smiled and moved on, having said a word or two to them. A commander could only spare so much time with each person. Didn't mean he didn't stare though. That ass…

"Don't touch that, Loser." His captain whispered in his earmic. "One touch and she'll break."

Loser tensed and turned away. "I-I don't know what you mean!" They laughed, and he put his head down in humiliation. It was that obvious wasn't it?

Well, it was hard not to. They were a group of a few hundred men and the only female he knew was their commander. The locals were aliens.

Damnit he needed a vacation…

Why were they even in a foxhole… the enemy was largely pacified. There were a few wild droids out there, but at this point it was mostly a formatility. It was about familiarity. Clones knew foxholes as well as any other home.

They had been here years, and that ended with the arrival of a new ship overhead.

They were all excited. The ship looked Republic although a bit different. It had a heavy greyish, predatory, tone to it, but the design was recognizable to an extent. Transports landed nearby and the battalian, Elestria, and some of the locals, assembled to greet them. Out popped clones wearing armor of an unusual design, and officers with shirts of a different design as well. They looked more sharp.

Loser didn't hear what was said, as he was in the back, but it looked heated. The man had some problem with them, and especially the sight of the Jedi. He yelled and pointed at her, and the weird clones raised their weapons. A full out battle sparked, as Loser and his comrades defended her, and each other.

There was little explanation. All Loser would learn is that the Jedi were considered terrorists, and they had failed to do their function at some point. It was all very confusing, they had no idea what these 'Imperials' were talking about.

They managed to fight back for a while, but then it rained hell. The enemy fired on them from orbit. Loser was knocked out by the shockwaves. When he came to, he found himself alone and broken. He had been burned by radiation to the point he couldn't recognize himself. The Empire trash that had opened fire on them had taken him and tried to reprocess him into being a clone like all the new ones batched out.

Loser grieved, and he resisted. When he was shoved into battle against Jedi, he would not open fire. He would not fight them. They beat him, and he defied them. They told him he was defective, and they were right. He no longer felt any compulsion to obey.

**-Starkiller/Harbinger-**

**-Present-**

Starkiller listened, and in a sense his feelings were mixed.

Were the man's tale right, then it was almost too easy. Starkiller had the sense that the Force was, almost literally, blessing his quest. He had always believed that Dark Side was his ally, and therefore the Force, but never had he felt as though assets were literally falling into his lap as much as this moment.

Were the man's tale wrong, then it was a kind of pathetic attempt at lieing and getting in league with him. Too pathetic and desperate really.

Harbinger put up a finger, "Will you excuse us a moment?"

"Certainly."

Harbinger leaned in close to Kota to avoid being listened in on, and while Kota stiffened very briefly with the sudden physical contact that came with it, he relaxed and didn't resist. "Do you sense him lieing?" He asked.

"No." Kota whispered back. "His feelings appear genuine, as is your distrust."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Understandable. However the feeling I am getting from him is that this opportunity is too good to be true, just as much as you think it is. He wants to work under a Jedi and to do some good, and he has been betrayed and sees the Empire for what it is, and suddenly one comes along. You want an army, and a band falls in your lap. In my opinion we can see how far he is willing to go with us."

Harbinger considered it. He couldn't sense the emotions of others as well as Kota. That was a more Jedi-ish skillset, while a Sith would take a very intrusive manner of achieving the same thing directly. Regardless, he trusted Kota so far as when it concerned their mutual goals, Kota was in charge of the army itself, and Kota seemed to trust him.

Harbinger turned back to Loser and extended his hand, "Alright, we can come to an arrangement."

"Glad to hear it." The former clone soldier shook his hand. Starkiller noticed immediately his hand was encased in a powered gauntlet. The tips of his fingers were clawed and he had an unusual device encased in his palm.

"Then allow me to be straightforward. Jedi Master Rahm Kota is my second in command. I am Harbinger, and I am raising an army with the primary objective to kill Lord Vader and Emperor Palpatine. My secondary objective is to destroy everything they have built. My arrangement with Kota is that he leads my army, dictates the rules of war, and decides how my objective is accomplished in return for it being done and me spear-heading the whole thing."

Loser stared at him, and from his increasingly lax posture, and lax jaw, Starkiller had the impression he was gaping and stunned. Hard to say with a man behind a mask and within a full suit of armor. Loser looked to Kota, and back to Harbinger, and back and forth again.

"Does that change something?" Harbinger tested him.

"Only a fool would not recognize the significance of such a statement." Was the awed response.

"Certainly true." Harbinger agreed. "However it makes it no less important, and now that you know of who I am and what I plan to do, we are left with two options: One. You join me. Two. I kill you, because I cannot risk you alerting the Empire and I take everything from you." Harbinger said it in absolute frankness. Lord Vader would have been proud.

Loser glared at him. "I do not appreciate being threatened."

"Its not a threat. As a smuggler, I am sure you understand that secrets have a price."

"Indeed." Loser sighed. "Well, I asked for it, and I am actually looking to give the Empire some good old fashioned payback."

Harbinger nodded. "How shall we contact you?"

Loser pulled out his hand-held and presented a number to them. Harbinger memorized it. "It's my private channel. Or you can provide me with one of your own. I am available whenever you need me."

"We will be in touch." Kota said.

Harbinger turned to leave with Kota, but Loser spoke up kindly, "Oh, one last thing. A word of advice: Be careful who you threaten."

"Oh?" Harbinger turned to look in curiousity, to find Loser had raised a hand to point his palm at him. Harbinger raised an eyebrow, but otherwise wasn't concerned. What was he going to do? Hit him? Did he have some personal laser on him? It was nothing he couldn't block.

Then the blast door behind them exploded, followed by the next two blast doors after that all the way down the hall until all that was left was a gaping hole. Starkiller felt himself shiver. Loser's gauntlet sparked in electricity and he lowered his hand.

**-Later-**

"Do we have the security in place to prevent risks if he is just very good at lieing?" Harbinger asked. They had returned to their shuttle and were returning to base. PROXY did loops and laps around aimlessly while stopping to check for tracking bugs, just incase.

Kota 'hmm'd. "Depends on whether you want him as an ally on your cabinet or a lower asset. He knows of me. The only secret I know of that would be higher is your identity."

"I want him to work his way up. Falon I trust where he is, partially because I know how the gesture has an impression on you. But Loser doesn't have that going for him. I want him to work solo, yet for our benefit."

"If he is below the cabinet, then my structure will mean his access to information is restricted and he will only know what we specifically tell him. The same with his missions."

"Good, then we are on the same wavelength." Harbinger removed his mask and breathed in crisp filtered starship air. It lacked a lot of smells. He felt himself miss Kashyyyk momentarily. It was a pleasant place full of interesting sounds, smells, and sights. If he ever ended up there again, he would allow himself a moment to relish in it again. Starship air was utterly tasteless.

"Here is what I am thinking: Raid the empire or pull our guys off Nar Shadaa." Harbinger mused.

Kota shook his head. "Bad idea. Our boys might need to stay. I've had time to think about it more, and what happens here is more important than ever."

"Okay, what do you have in mind then?" Starkiller sat down in the co-pilot seat and spun around to face the blind Jedi. Kota snapped his fingers three times up in the air and opened his hand, and Jowwarr rolled his big Wookie eyes and left. Starkiller could only watch in confusion as the Wookie returned with a bottle of liquer and placed it in Kota's open hand. Kota took it like it was the most casual thing in the world and uncorked it.

"Nar Shadaa is the gate-way into the Cartel. We can't let the Empire go further into Hutt ter-"

"Do you seriously have my Wookie on command?" Starkiller asked in amazement. He hadn't really moved past that yet.

"Yes." Kota tossed the cork over his shoulder, inadvertiedly hitting Jowwarr in the shoulder, tipped his drink back, and took a gulp. He took multiple gulps, gasped when he finally came up for air, and cleared his throat. "Now, the center of Hutt Space is the two planets Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa. Both are in the same system, so the Empire has both. The next system of importance is Ylesia, and that one is still owned by the Hutts. Now, our latest information points to the Hutts and Empire both setting up for some skirmishing. Nothing more than a few assault frigates. However, skirmishes are just little bites to see where the weakness is that they can exploit. Both sides are preparing for something much larger, I feel it in my bones."

"So we go to Ylesia and do something or?"

"No, I just say this so you understand the field of war. Ylesia is deeper in Hutt space, but the twin system of Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa is the singular most important system in all of Hutt space because it access the four major interstellar roads within Hutt space. From there you have access to every corner of their territory. The Empire can strike at Rorak, Circumtore, Hosko, Du Hutta, and they already own Kleeva. They can hit anywhere from one place, while the Hutts have to go more round-a-bout to get reinforcements to the same places."

Kota took another set of gulps. "Now, where we sit right is in the middle of deep space between Hosko, Rorak, and Diyu (which is further down the road than Rorak). This area of deep space also borders M'Hanna, Tisht, Varl, Ylesia, and Poytta. Suffice to say there are a LOT of pirates here, and the Hutts know that. My best guess is that the Hutts are going to take advantage by either hiring every pirate in between these nine systems to go after the Empire or they will funnel their own forces through to have a guerrilla war. Because this one area of deep space borders Nar Shadaa as well and two of t three roads the Empire can take to go into the very heart of Hutt Space. If they try to go after Du Hutta, they will take a sizable chunk from the Hutts, but then it will be only a minor victory compared to the real prizes and real strategy." Kota smiled. "And I know the high command has a thing for going after the big prize."

Starkiller nodded. He tried absorbing everything Kota said, but it only went to show how far above him the old man was in thinking that he could only barely follow. "You think we should be hired by the Hutts and pretend to local pirates?"

"Hmm…" Kota mused. "Wasn't thinking that, but it will help boost us up to be sponsored for a short time, and we have a contact now. We can definietely take advantage of the Hutts…" Kota looked away in thought. "My thought was actually to have Loser hunt down the local pirates and force them to join him, and thereby increase our army, but your idea actually sounds better. Yes… We can use that. Contacts, supplies, a sponsor, and if the Empire catches wind of you then we will just appear to be small fries… yes. Very interesting thought."

Starkiller blanked. "I… actually wasn't thinking any of that. I was just following your train of thought. You said they might try to hire us."

Kota chuckled. "Sometimes we come up with something smart by accident too."


	22. S01 Ep22

"The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting. - Sun Tzu"

* * *

**-Palpatine-**

Humble and slow, Senator Organa bent his knee before Emperor Palpatine. Palpatine smiled widely and basked in the moment. Organa was a rival, yet he was both a small fry and a respectable one both. Palpatine respected how Organa knew how to play the game and did it with the true honor expected of a man with such high morals, he truly was in many ways the Senator heart of the Republic -if only he didn't realizing he was beating for a dead body-. Organa bowed because he knew how to submit without losing, how to take a step back to take a step forward, how to retreat to fight another day. In this way Palpatine recognized he was not foolish enough to defy him too far, with enough dignity to know that he fought in the law for more than just himself and his pride, and yet in many ways it was his very acts such as these that kept him weak. He was little more than a toy or thorn in Palpatine's side that he could discard at whim.

But Palpatine did not get to where he was just by discarding thorns.

He kept the smile on his face even as he internally scoffed. The man was weak. Honor and dignity had lost to his cunning long ago, and the man held to it like a starving man to a mirage. Let him have his honor. Let him have his belief that he was able to change the system from inside. Palpatine would allow just enough give for him to believe he was helping, while also accomplishing his own ends.

"You beckoned me, my lord?" The Senator asked at last.

Palpatine basked in the moment a bit longer, the span of a long blink, before replying, "Come, stand here." Palpatine beckoned the man over with his hand and turned his throne to the side. A screen lit up.

Organa hesitated, not expecting this, but complied. He rushed his first few steps to compensate for his hesitation before standing by the side of the vile Emperor and looking at the screen. It was a report.

A Moff had been captured by the Hutts and was being held ransom.

That was the basics of it at least. There was much more to it, much more than what was written in the report. Organa's presence here would speak volumes, and Palpatine waited for him to put the pieces together.

"Why are you showing me this, my lord?" Organa asked.

Palpatine's grin widened. The man had the pieces, but chose not to assume. Assuming would have been an insult and Palpatine would have been angered. Most would have put the pieces together, but Organa went a step further in knowing that Palpatine would not appreciate assumptions.

"I want you to take our offer to them, and hold conference."

* * *

**-Starkiller/Harbinger-**

The conference went on for some time and Starkiller leaned back to watch and listen. He felt little part to play in the planning phase. He was a man of action. Give him a target and let him lose. That was how he worked. He chose to lean back and consider them.

He didn't trust Loser. Loser was too new for him to have earned Starkiller's trust, and he still found it too easy to have found Loser and recruited him. Should he really be doubtful of a gift that falls into his lap? Starkiller didn't want to, but he refused to take his own security for granted anymore. He trusted Vader. Now see where that got him?

This kind of trust didn't just extend to Loser, Starkiller considered. It extended to Kota, Falon, and Loser equally. Everyone had their good and bad points to be watched for. Loser was easy to recruit, but was too easy. He might leave just as easily. Kota was a Jedi Master and himself said he had a vision. Well, vision or not, he could just turn on his own destiny or prove himself for the criminal Jedi were labeled as. Falon was loyal to Kota and this offered both good and bad, because as long as Kota was loyal, so was Falon. While if Kota was disloyal, Falon would follow. Starkiller knew that Falon felt a debt to him for getting them out of some hot water, but he doubted that debt would hold up against loyalty to his master if Starkiller would force him to choose. In the end, Starkiller couldn't truly trust any of them with his deepest secrets, couldn't trust them with his life, yet he also had to reveal some secrets in order to earn their loyalty and cooperation. He had to be careful what they knew and what they didn't know.

Kota knew practically everything. Starkiller would have to be extremely wary of Kota turning against him then, but it was a risk he felt was necessary. Kota was his ace. Without Kota, Starkiller would flail around trying to create an army like a fish out of water. How many times already had Kota taken him aside for lessons? Too many for him to count. It seemed to be daily.

Falon knew little. Thankfully he was content with that now. Starkiller knew Falon was a cautious Jedi and felt left out, as though he was being replaced as padawan and master, but that mood seemed to have moved on since he had teams of his own to focus on.

Loser knew nothing, and Starkiller planned to keep it that way.

Starkiller was pleased by how there was now enough information being gathered on a regular basis, and enough men to consider more options, and enough leaders with a variety of experience to lean upon. It was progress.

The primary topics of which was under discussion was mostly in how to use the resources they had at their disposal now, as well as three important subjects. Loser didn't have an army, but his band of smugglers offered a steady income of sorts and infiltration teams. The contacts was a big plus. Starkiller ignored what Falon had to say about his teams, there wasn't anything to note yet. In the end the arguing came down to organization. Falon wanted to organize Loser's men into teams similar to how Falon's was constructed, but Loser didn't want to because the way he had it going had always worked. Starkiller didn't really care either way. He felt it was a waste.

Starkiller looked up at the clock. "Gentlemen, we have wasted twenty minutes on this and gotten nowhere, just let Kota decide whether to have Loser reorganize his men. Falon, remember Loser is your equal. You don't really get a say."

"Thank you! Someone who understands!" Loser exclaimed.

"No, I don't care one way or the other. The problem is it has wasted a lot of time. Move on." Kota chuckled at Starkiller's statement.

Falon shrugged and pushed a bunch of papers forward. "Here are three events worth looking at. The details are there, but I'll summarize it." Starkiller looked at the first folder and document. "Loser, to catch you up, we had a recent contact go by codename 'Xena' give us a set of coordinates to scout out. We had never met 'Xena' before, and this made us suspicious. I sent a team to check out the coordinates and this is what we found: An Imperial base not on any map."

"That isn't really a surprise." Kota replied. "The only places you will find on maps are places of public access. There are thousands of bases not on public maps."

"How many of them are guarded by a Star Destroyer?"

That gave them pause. Starkiller narrowed his eyes in thought and knew this was significant. Star Destroyers were used to guard places of importance. Bases were important yes, but bases out in the middle of nowhere? Secrecy was as much a protection as any Star Destroyer. To combine secrecy with the fire-power of a starship capable of conquering a planet

Loser chuckled. "My smuggling senses are tingling. People only put big locks on things they really want guarded."

"Do we have any idea what kind of base we are looking at?" Starkiller inquired.

"One with lots of valuables!"

"More specifically, if you don't mind." Starkiller shot a look at Loser.

"Actually, he is right." Kota considered. "It won't necessarily matter yet. Technology, supplies, weaponry, information it would have to be valuable if the Empire is devoting a whole Star Destroyer to it. For all we know it could be the Imperial Bank where they store the gold." Kota quickly explained, "The value of credits is based on valuable metals stored in bank vaults."

"Well, if it turns out to be gold, then I say we leave it. If we touch it then it only impacts the civilian sector." Falon frowned.

Starkiller shrugged. "Do we have anyone that can go in and see what they have there?"

"No." Kota answered. "All of Falon's teams are busy or aren't enough to get past a base like this and I don't know about Loser's."

"Didn't we get 2 teams past a Star Destroyer to Nar Shadaa?"

"That is because Nar Shadaa is a giant planet city. This sounds like a planet with a single place of interest. The Star Destroyer wouldn't be patrolling much, if at all. It will see us, and there isn't move to work around here. Two entirely different scenarios."

Loser put up a hand apologetically. "Sorry, no can do. We have nothing to compete with a Star Destroyer."

Starkiller sighed. "It will have to be on the backburner then."

Falon nodded. "The next folder then."

Starkiller flipped to the next set of documents and looked it over. This interested him.

Falon summarized, "The Hutts have put a bounty on Imperial tech. Weapons, gear, armor, heavy weapons, machinery, space vessels with a bonus for military grade. The bounty is paid in cash and upfront."

"So they've declared war then?" Starkiller wondered.

Loser shook his head. "No. Not precisely. The bounty is only for the tech. That means everyone ranging from civilians finding it on the street, to smugglers, to thieves, to murderers, to bounty hunters, to mercenaries, to well soldiers and turncoats can get paid for handing over Imperial guns. The biggest thing I see here is what it doesn't say: whether you have to kill or not."

"Exactly." Kota added. "This is a statement of war in a sense, but only in a way that can be denied and brushed aside by the statement that they are having shortages and just want tech, and that anyone who brings them weapons from a soldier they had killed is finding a loop. On one hand it means the Cartel profits. They don't have to put money into industry and factories and every credit worth of tech they receive is a credit worth taken from the Empire. Declarations of war is more formal than this and involves direct attacks and lives being taken."

Kota looked up towards Loser. "We can profit from this."

Starkiller grinned. "Now this is something I can work with. We got a few crates from Kashyyyk that I picked up."

"That is better off remaining in our hands at the moment, but I agree. We need to take advantage of this." Kota smiled. "However, before I give out orders, let's see what more there is to it. The Empire will not just sit idly by and let this 'business proposition' last."

"They aren't." Falon declared. "Third folder, gentlemen."

Starkiller flipped to the last folder and glanced it over. What he read made his eyes eyebrows shoot up.

"Yoo-hoo. Blind man here. No read paper." Kota waved.

"Right." Falon grimaced. "The Empire and Cartel are engaging in negotiations. The location is at these coordinates."

Starkiller felt his stomach drop. Would these negotiations mean the war would end before it truly began? He was using their war as a smokescreen to raise his army. Without the Cartel to hide behind, where would they go? Starkiller had no doubt they would manage either way, but it was much more profitable to take advantage of the situation.

"It will most likely fail. It's just a formality." Kota brushed it aside. He took a sip from a bottle.

"I wouldn't be so sure the Imperial diplomat assigned to the negotiations is Bale Organa."

Kota spit out the drink in his mouth across the table.

"Damn hypocrite." Starkiller hissed angrily. "He talks all high and mighty about serving the people and how bad the Empire is, and his desire to work from the inside, only to defend them."

"Sometimes you have to bed your enemy to do that, boy." Kota wiped the drink from his mouth. "It's called being a politician. It involves a lot of compromise This changes things."

"You don't seriously think Organa will succeed do you?" Starkiller asked.

Kota didn't answer.

Starkiller scoffed and looked away. "Beautiful. Usually I appreciate irony, but in this case the very fact that the guy I tried to recruit is defending my enemy and may set me back far is an irony I don't appreciate."

Kota continued to not answer. Rather, his composure became serious. He put his drink down, straightened up to his full height, and laced his fingers together on the table. "Falon Loser... Please leave the room for a few minutes. Harbinger and I need to discuss our next move."

"You got it, boss." Loser rose and left the room. Falon followed with a bow. The only ones to remain were Kota, Starkiller, and Jowwarr standing guard.

Starkiller raised an eyebrow and looked to Kota. Kota continued to not speak for a long time, and he didn't mind. Kota had his serious face on, and Starkiller could see the gears of war churning in his head.

"Is this going to be a talk where I have input, or you want us to have the illusion of discussion when you declare what is going to happen?" Starkiller inquired.

"The latter. This is serious." Kota mumbled.

Starkiller shrugged and leaned back. It was a long moment before Kota spoke again. "As much respect as I have to Organa, these negotiations can't be allowed to work. Not just because we are taking advantage of the growing conflict, but because the Cartel are, technically, on the right. The Empire has attacked without cause or provocation many times and took Nar Shadaa. The Cartel are evil, but that doesn't mean they are wrong."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Loser and you will go to a major Imperial base, steal as much as you can and generally do some damage while limiting losses. In doing this you will provoke the Empire -and yes this means lots of witnesses- and they will point to the Cartel's little bounty to blame while protecting your anonymity. You will appear to be every day mercs taking advantage of the Cartel's bounty. This should put a little more fire on the negotiations and keep it in a state where the Cartel can realize they are the ones on the defensive, and so they shouldn't just give in. In the meantime, we need to step up our work on Mandalore. I will send Falon to personally go there and see what he can do to help."

Starkiller nodded. He smiled behind the mask. It felt good to have the Jedi General stepping up. "What of our teams on Nar Shadaa?"

"That is up to Falon, really. But I feel we can get a lot more out of Mandalore right now than Nar Shadaa. The situation between the cartel and Empire is volatile, and that we can use, but I don't want to push Falon into using teams when we don't know how the pendulum will swing."

"Yet you still want us striking against the Empire. Doesn't sound like you are waiting to hear how the talks will go."

Kota shook his head. "We do want to show that what the Cartel started si not something to be taken lightly, and use it to our advantage. But I also know the empire." Kota looked in Starkiller's direction. "As do you. This is Palpatine we are talking about. Do you think he will be faithful to the idea that he has wronged them?"

"No."

"Do you think he will even take this seriously?"

Starkiller remembered that Palpatine took great joy in his torture and demise. The man practically got off on that kind of stuff. But he was also the Emperor by his own hands, and that is not something to be taken lightly. "That I don't know. He became Emperor for a reason. Yet he has no sense of fair play and I doubt he has respect for anyone or anything."

Kota looked away in thought. He recognized what Starkiller was saying. He had his own views on the Emperor, but perhaps there was also truth in what he was saying. "Then you believe it will come down to how seriously he takes it?"

"Yes."

"I wish I could agree, but that is not entirely how a leader works. True, it is about how seriously he takes this. But that only extends so far as his choice in who he selects to take on the talks because a leader must choose who to pass the work on to. He could select a buffoon, but he has chosen Bail Organa. In this the Emperor is no longer involved until he chooses to be since his attention must go to other matters."

"Do you believe Organa will succeed then? Even, if say, we didn't add fuel to the fire?" Starkiller asked.

Kota was silent a long moment that seemed to stretch on. It was not until the air felt suffocating in the patience for an answer did he at last offer an answer, "I don't know."

Starkiller tilted his head to the side curiously. "You don't know?"

"Organa is a brilliant lawyer, and an experienced Senator. Alderaan is a land where law is taught more, then perhaps, most other systems, and he is at the top of his class. Yet there is so much law that lawyers must specialize themselves in only certain aspects of it. There is simply too much for one person to digest it all. Every system has entirely different laws, every quadrant, every nation. There are libraries upon libraries upon libraries. Senators and even Moffs and Palpatines don't actually know the law, they haven't read it all (there is simply too much) so they have hundreds and hundreds of people under them to do it. Even then, those hundreds and thousands of people will be struggling to dig through the entire law for what they need. Organa is good at what he does, but trying to establish peace between the Empire and the Cartel on behalf of Palpatine is outside of what I believe he can handle."

Kota leaned his chair back and faced the ceiling. "How he does will be on the shoulders of a well-selected staff that will have his back, and how well he can adapt to a whole new section of law overnight."

Starkiller looked at him in confusion. "But doesn't the government approve law?"

Kota barked in laughter, "Yes! They do! But you expect Palpatine to sit down and read fifteen billion pages? No, all governments have time to do is say 'approved, next?' every year. That is mostly why it is so corrupt, because people have the ability to sneak in bits and pieces here and there that benefit them at the cost of everyone else without it being noticed."

Starkiller tapped his fingers on the table. He felt a feral grin grow on his lips. "So there are areas of law even Palpatine doesn't know about."

"Oh, there is plenty." Kota turned his head to him. "But don't bother trying to fight him there, boy. Our battle is one of the sword, not the pen. He will eat you up, and I won't bother helping you if you are going to be foolish enough to try it. Truth be told, even if you magically pull a law out of your butt cheeks that beats him into the ground, it won't matter. Remember the story of the chancellor and the king?"

"The one the chancellor tried to assassinate?" Starkiller recalled the story. A king was on the chancellor's assassination list and came out alive. The Chancellor went to the king and openly admitted to having orchestrated it, but the Chancellor had so much power in the court that the king had to laugh it off despite knowing about it from the start that it was real, because he couldn't bring himself to publicly turn them into rivals. The Civil War would have ended with his loss. "Point taken."

Power in the court still beats than truth.

"Then how does one get power to compete with something like that?!" Starkiller exclaimed. He threw his head back and groaned. For a long moment, he was silent. Something in the silence worried Kota. If he didn't know better, he would almost think the boy sounded defeated.

Starkiller whispered, "Tell me honestly, Kota Can we win?"

Kota gazed heavily in the boy's general direction, even blind as he was. The question was a heavy one. Were he to ask Kota back before he recruited him, then he would have said 'no'. Even now, Kota felt the answer was still 'no'. But then what was a soldier to do but fight? He didn't know what else to do. The court was the war of politicians when they saw something to fight for. The battlefield was his war, and he saw something to fight for even though it may amount to nothing.

What's more All Kota had ever seen from the boy is determination, resolve. He was willing to throw his life away to win. Nothing else really mattered to him. For the boy to pose such a question "What happened to your resolve, boy?"

"Consider this a momentary relapse." Starkiller sighed. "It's just Before I recruited you, I believed I could do it. I still believe its possible, but you have given me lesson after lesson on how war is more than just a single battlefield. I've come to understand a bit of what it is we are facing, at least in the sheer magnitude of how far beyond our depth we are. But you you have a far better understanding of the mountain we are seeking to overtake. I will fight to the end, but I still want your opinion."

Kota was silent for a moment. "We cannot win as we are now."

Starkiller was silent, and Kota considered this a sign of recognition. He needed to explain further. Kota leaned across the table and said, "Boy. Understand something. Life is a fragile thing. The reason the Empire is so powerful and has so much complicated red-tape is specifically because it has a weakness to protect. But while it makes the Empire harder, it also makes it more brittle. The strength of a nation lies in four things: transportation, communication, economics, and military assets. The Empire seeks to have complete control of all four aspects. The more control they seek to have, the more difficult it is at times. People are not as dumb as you might believe. People see what the Empire is doing, but are too afraid to do anything. Too afraid to speak out. Too afraid to stand up and join a cause against it or for it."

Kota continued, "If we are to fight the Empire, then you have to understand that we have to have specific goals. We cannot fight as we are, but that means we have to adapt. We need weapons, we need money, we need men, and we need intelligence. All this time we hide. From there, we move to the next phase. We go after one of the nation's strengths. Transportation, communication, economics, military assets. If we can manage to make even a dent on one of them, then we will have an impact on a galactic scale. We do this to make a name for ourselves and accelerate our growth in finding allies, though it may mean the Empire seeing us for the first time. We continue to grow and build up our assets and evade the Empire, and we move to the third phase. The third phase will involve us finding a weakness. Some fact, something, anything, that we can use to make a truly lethal strike into the very heart of Palpatine's power." Kota slammed his fist on the table. "Then we strike at his very heart."

Kota continued, "Can we win? Yes. Will we? I cannot say. But if we remain focused and keep these goals in mind, then even if we lose, we will leave him wounded. We will go down having done more than any rebel force has since the formation of the Empire. And if we can finish this all off right, then there are three things we may accomplish: First, we may walk away a much stronger force. Second, we may go down but leave the embers of rebellion all around us. Third, we may show the surrounding neutral nations what the Empire is and show them they cannot just let Palpatine do as he wants. No matter which, we will give the Empire a bloody nose."

Starkiller let his words roll over him. He breathed in and out deeply, before nodding fervently. "You're right. Of course, you're right."

Kota hesitated, unsure how the boy would take it. But he reached over and grasped the boy's shoulder gently for a moment. "Just focus on the mission. Let me handle the bigger details."

Starkiller didn't notice the gesture, and if he did, he made neither fuss nor appreciation for it. He merely sat in pensive thought before nodding.

"How about how Loser's men will be organized?"

"While Falin has a point, he is failing to consider that Loser's role is different. All sections and teams will be split in such a way that they can't give too much away if any are caught, but teams out in the field operate differently from say base defense, or our intelligence teams, or in this case, a group of smugglers. He thinks Loser is a handler like him. He won't be. Loser has a more direct role with less spying and espionage. I want Loser to operate as he knows best in the interest of gaining us money, contacts, and the like. At the same time he will be told only what I allow him to know, so what you saw today won't be happening again where Falon started dishing out information Loser otherwise didn't really have a need to know without my discretion."

"So you will be the one handing out folders now?" Starkiller chuckled. "Should I get someone to write for you?"

Kota smiled in turn. "No, boy, there is this wonderful thing called technology."

* * *

**-Bail Organa-**

Senator Bail Prestor Organa gulped a bit as his personal shuttle shook. The ever distinctive sound of clamps locking his ship in place resounded through the halls, and he knew he was inside the Star Destroyer. He stood in front of the main door. On a panel showed a video of what lay on the other side. The Grand Moff had come to meet him, personally.

Organa didn't like the mission he was on, he didn't like being inside a Star Destroyer, he didn't like the trapped feeling that came with the clamps, gravity leash, and anti-hyperspace emitters combined, he didn't much favor the Moff even though he was the highest ranked member of the Empire that had the guts and favor to talk back to the Emperor, and live, when it called for it. There was simply a lot of things here not to like. The only thing that helped Organa, really, was that while the Moff was in every way on the same side as Palpatine, he was neutrally efficient. The Moff had proven to not care about politics, and so wouldn't turn the Senator into a target to be exploited. No, the Moff was about efficiency. He was almost a machine in that way.

Organa didn't like him, but he was still a powerful ally when you were on good terms with him.

"Well, best not to keep him waiting." Organa said. He schooled his features to a polite neutrality and cooled his emotions into complete calmness. He motioned for his guard to proceed. One of them opened the door and they exited.

The ramp was small, and the stormtroopers lining up a path before him saluted. The Grand Moff stood at the far end of the line with his hands behind his back, waiting patiently. Organa stepped down at the pace his guards set for him, and he extended his hand to the Moff when he reached him.

Tarkin had a solid grip that lasted exactly short enough to be polite yet long enough to emphasis control.

"Welcome to Nar Shadaa, Senator."


	23. S01 Ep23

**"In our age there is no such thing as 'keeping out of politics.' All issues are political issues, and politics itself is a mass of lies, evasions, folly, hatred and schizophrenia." - George Orwell**

* * *

**-Bail Organa-**

Tarkin had a solid grip that lasted exactly short enough to be polite yet long enough to emphasis control.

"Welcome to Nar Shadaa, Senator."

Organa nodded. "Thank you for escorting me, Grand Moff." Tarkin motioned toward the opposing door, and with a slight bow, Organa walked. Tarkin stepped in beside him. The soldiers saluted as they passed and returned to their work while Organa's bodyguards stayed around them. Tarkin seemed unconcerned to not have guards of his own.

"I have been briefed on your mission, Senator." Tarkin said as they walked. "And I have been instructed to give you all the aid you require."

"I thank you for any assistance you can offer. Will you be joining me on the negotiation table?"

"Not unless you wish it. Unofficially my resources are at your disposal, my lawyers, my officers, my men. All are the best of the best, handpicked from the academy. Officially, you are in charge of negotiation. I am in charge of your security."

"I already have a head of security."

Tarkin barely gave him a glance out of the corner of his eye, "I know."

Organa inwardly frowned. So Palpatine instructed him to take over for security. That was outside protocol in the sense that much of what Organa might say or do unofficially would be directly under Tarkin's attention, and that was very dangerous for him. Organa trusted Tarkin to keep him much more secure than his own staff, but his personal security chief was required to sign non-disclosure agreements on much what he heard. Tarkin was not.

This was like saying the hunter was the personal bodyguard to the prey.

"In truth, though." Tarkin continued on, undeterred. "I won't be beside you all the time. I have to handle the security and progress of the Nar Shadaa sector. I'm sure you recognize the importance this place has on your negotiations."

Organa nodded. "It is the biggest card we have, and the most important card they will want beyond peace. The situation on Nar Shadaa makes up the core of how negotiations will go. It is ground zero for how the recent conflict has started. If, then, you won't be joining me, then how will you be in charge of my security?"

"I can supervise much of that from my flagship. There will need to be a high-ranking official there, and so I have chosen one. He will be selecting a few men to join your personal escort, and your ship will be escorted by two assault ships of his choosing as well."

"Who?" Organa questioned.

They arrived at Tarkin's personal office door, and with a quick biometric scan, the doors opened. Bail Organa froze at the sight of the man. "Ah, you are already here. Good." Tarkin stated as he entered.

Lord Vader.

* * *

**-Falon-**

Falon just finished putting his boots on when the door to his cabin rung. "Hold on." He hollered. He put his lightsaber on his belt, stretched his back a bit, and opened the door on his way out.

"Ah, Orga!" Falon smiled. He shared a one-armed hug with the dark-skinned man. Beside him were his two little minions: Bellona and Mars. Bellona jumped up and wrapped herself around him like he was a pole while giggling madly. "Bellona! You look good, girl. Did you enjoy the mission with Orga?"

"Yeah, it was fun!"

Falon chuckled and looked to Orga. "I wasn't expecting you guys back for a few days. How did it go?"

"You should have the package already."

Falon nodded. They had been sending him information as it was gathered. It wasn't enough to make a full picture, but it was leading to something. "I do, but never mind that. I trust you guys didn't have much trouble?"

"Some." Orga admitted. "Mostly in the end before we had to get out. We ran into a gang run by another team of yours-" Orga looked at him in irritation. "Do let us know when you gonna do that again. It scared the crap out of us. But regardless, mostly all of us got out."

Falon considered it. One of the teams was supposed to stay if he recalled. Maybe not, he had made multiple changes and they might not have been up to date. Balancing multiple teams in his head was hard enough. "Mostly?"

Orga's composure darkened sadly. He scratched at the back of his white-hair nervously. "Well, us and about two hundred recruits. But another one-hundred along with Team Wraith gave us the time to escape."

Falon sighed. "MIA then, assumed dead." He hadn't expected to hear such news. He expected it every day, but it is another thing when it finally does happen. With the teams out there on their own in risky situations… people will die or be captured.

"Will we be sending a rescue team?"

Falon regarded him sadly. He didn't answer at first, as answering in either way would easily be a poor decision. To risk people or leave them behind. Even to make a decision with lives on the balance, against morals or what is logical, was a curse of its own.

"Our new ally might have a contact that can look for them, but I won't be sending you back in. He knew the risks. Every team does. We don't have the manpower to do it, though I desperately want to."

Orga looked to him in sadness, but also understanding. He had been given the same warning when he, himself, had left with his team. Bellona and Mars were given the warning too. The only reason Orga had agreed to take them on a team was to help them learn of their past and their skills were… frightening. Orga considered himself a good street brawler after growing up in the streets of Nar Shadaa and the gangs, but she could take down a man twice her size and age without breaking a sweat.

"I understand."

Falon put a hand on his shoulder. "There will be a time to grieve if our ally cannot help us, but for now rest. Let the kids be with their friends. You have given me much work to do." He chuckled.

They parted, and Falon smile frowned deeply. His gut ached with the knowledge that they could do nothing for Team Wraith but see if Loser could do something after his raid. It was no small feat to get in to Nar Shadaa, and getting out had lost them a lot of good men. It was just not something they could do repeatedly.

His powerlessness only showed how weak the rebellion still was.

He left the asteroid base to find the transport and recruits outside. His men had refused them entry until he had approved, and he felt unsure as he looked on them. They were not soldiers. They were not professionals. They were foul-mouthed, dirty, and many of them were probably worthy of jail-time for one reason or another.

Who wasn't in the age of Emperor Palpatine?

"Who amongst you calls yourself leader?" Falon called out.

Two men approached him. They eyed each other warily, before standing before him.

Falon asked, "What are you doing here?"

The first said, "Your man helped us survive against the Empire, showed us how to live. But the Empire has taken from us our homes, and many of our lives. My men and I would do what we can to survive, and if it means giving the Empire a black eye…" He grinned widely. One of his teeth were missing. "I won't argue."

Falon searched him in the Force, and found him adamant. He looked to the other.

The second man shrugged. "What he said. My men and I kinda need a place to stay, and something to do would be nice."

Falon raised an eyebrow. The Force spun around the second man warily, but Falon found he but needed a purpose and perhaps he would follow it.

"Then I shall have the master come out and meet with you." Falon said.

Falon returned to the base, instructed his men to make sure they continued to stay out but were treated well, and searched. He found Harbinger, with his Wookie, droid, and Loser preparing to depart.

"Harbinger, we have a group outside looking to join us."

Harbinger looked up at his approach, before sharing a glance with Loser. "Do you need me to stay and meet them?"

"No, but this might mean you putting your smuggling raid off for a few hours. I believe our mutual friend should be the one to talk with them along with Loser. They are your kind of people, Loser."

"Not sure if that is a compliment or an insult." Loser huffed.

Harbinger replied, "Our mutual friend cannot meet them, Jedi. Secrecy is everything with him!"

Falon looked at him warily, "You would keep him locked in a room to rot? He has to socialize at some point!"

"Yes, unless you have an idea of how to keep him secret without being secret."

Falon felt he was stating the obvious. "Why not have him wear a mask like you two?" Harbinger froze a moment, seemingly hesitant and Falon felt he was right in thinking he had not considered it.

"I… have not thought of that." Harbinger admitted. "But how will he get around?"

"Who says he has to? Even wearing armor, our mutual friend can be escorted to the waiting room and around as needed. Blindness is not something to be ashamed of, nor will is it exactly something that will tip the Empire off. Even if they go to the empire, what are they going to say? That some blind man in a mask was the one they met?"

"I would be more worried about them leaking our location." Loser agreed. He looked to Harbinger. "I might have something the old man can use. Might I also suggest a subtle show of strength? If these are my kind of people, they will expect something openly rugged… like a Wookie bodyguard."

"What are you suggesting?" Harbinger asked.

"Have Jowwarr escort the old guy around and stand guard until it is time for us to leave. Meeting some guy in a mask and armor is too much double-oh-seven hacker stuff, but a Wookie with guns and fur and muscle is what they are used to. It will give some familiarity to the meeting."

"Don't I get a say in this?" Jowwarr wondered.

"No. But don't you think it a bad idea to threaten?"

Loser replied, "Harbinger, you found it insulting that I didn't cover you in guards and make a show of threat. These are the type to think somewhere along the same lines. It shows we are serious about them."

"So it's okay for you to not respect me but you respect these people?!" Harbinger barked childishly.

Loser got in his face and made some remark about his height, at which point Falon rolled his eyes. Harbinger yelled, "WHO ARE YOU CALLING A SHRIMP!? YOUR MOTHER IS A SHRIMP!"

Falon grabbed both of them and separated them. "Enough! We aren't childr-!" He found himself being tripped by Harbinger just as Loser tackled him (because apparently Loser doesn't have a mother, and he still finds it insulting) and the two of them went rolling across the floor.

Falon got to his feet and watched the two of them go at it. Jowwarr just smiled. The droid Harbinger always keeps around stepped forward and seemed to smile in a way, despite not having a mouth. "What?" Falon asked him.

Jowwarr said, "I think our Master has made a friend. I have not seen him do anything like that with anyone. He is always so composed for one so young."

Falon raised an eyebrow curiously. He had a feeling Harbinger was a young adult. Nice to know his feelings were right. He huffed in aggravation and brushed himself off. He had enough of childish men for one day. "Just make sure they don't actually kill each other. I'll help get the mutual friend set up."

Falon brushed himself off and had Loser's officers help him get a set of armor and a mask suitable for Kota. It would be temporary.

Now that it was an issue with dealing with, Kota and Harbinger would have to look into a more permanent set-up for Master Kota. With the armor and helmet in his arms, he left and entered Harbinger's personal shuttle to find Kota snoring on his bar table, an empty bottle of whisky in his hand.

Falon sighed. "Why do I feel like the only adult here…"

* * *

**-Harbinger-**

The mission went as expected. Loser and him raided an Imperial base. Under Kota's orders, they did not kill the Imperials, rather, Harbinger and his allies disabled them. Harbinger's skill in stealth and assassination proved key to taking them all into custody. They tied up the Imperial soldiers and left them in a closed off room.

With the place secure, Harbinger met up with Loser in the bases command center. All around him the smugglers and pirates pried apart panels, unscrewed seats from the floor, pulled the windows out, and burrowed into the computer mainframe for every scrap of data they could get their hands on that wasn't wiped. Harbinger's focus had been on infiltrating the command center and removing the commander first. Thanks to him, they had vast amounts of data to add to their pillage of weapons and vessels (of which was two fighters, a transport, and two tanks). Harbinger was not satisfied with merely stealing weapons, chairs, and… toilet paper.

"How much longer?" Harbinger asked.

Loser said, "We should finish sacking the whole place in about four hours. Six if we take the time to inspect everything for tracers. We don't want to be followed."

Harbinger glared at him from behind the helmet before demanding, "You have three." He turned and left.

Unbeknownst to him, Loser chuckled once the man had left, "We can do it in one. Now who's the loser."

In the meantime, Harbinger made way to their ship and settled down in a seat to begin his report. He did not have his own cabin, the ship was much too small for that and they required every inch to be used in storage. Once his report was written, he went over the updates from the base. Falon had taken on the mantle of being 'Kota' behind the helmet because the actual Jedi Master was stone drunk, and he was personally interviewing the new recruits one by one. Some he was finding lacked the inner traits to work in a rebellion and not betray them, and so those he put aside to be transported to another world.

This ultimately left Harbinger with a bigger shopping list.

Find Kota some armor or way of interacting with people without his identity being revealed.

Establish a method of recruitment that won't allow non-recruits to know the location of the main base or have exposure to any of the high-ranking officials in his rebellion. Otherwise anyone could reach out to them and decline recruitment in the end, but gain access to valuable information in the process.

Harbinger groaned at the idea. Not that he wasn't up to the task and understood the necessity, but how to do it in and of itself was beyond him. Nearly after three hours, Loser entered the ship and collapsed near him utterly wiped. "Well… we're done. Don't expect us to push ourselves like that again for a while."

"Yeah, yeah…" Harbinger mumbled. He showed Loser his list. "Anything you know that could do this?"

Loser took from him the datapad and read the concepts. "The armor is easy, we can get him one similar to your own. The other… also easy."

Harbinger turned his head in curiosity. "Really?"

"Yeah. A VRG would work, a cheap one with a large enough of a following to be well heard of. An MMO would work best. Then the problem comes down to tracking and identity. We can use a zombie computer for that, but we would need to contract an identity farm for the rest. It would actually be a good idea to start contracting an identity farm right away anyway, the uses for one are infinite." Loser handed him back the datapad.

"I'm going to say… I don't understand a single thing you just said."

Loser peered at him, "A VRG is a Virtual Reality Game, an MMO is a massive multiplayer one, and I wouldn't expect you to know what an identity farm is, but seriously… Where did you live? Under a rock?"

"No. I grew up in an environment that didn't have 'games'." Harbinger hissed defensively.

"Daaaaamn…" Loser muttered. There was an awkward pause between them before Loser explained, "What I am saying is that we go to an identity farm, contract an identity, and then use it to buy an account on an online game where people will easily be able to get an account of their own and interact with our 'recruiter'. In the chance that someone catches on to us, then the use of zombie computers (hacked computers that are having active background programs running without their knowledge) will allow us to not be seen over the network."

Harbinger was still lost, but he had a somewhat basic idea what the man was talking about. "So… can you handle it?" can you handle it? Or would Falon be able to handle it?"

"I know an identity farm we can use and a few of my men would be able to grow zombie computers as well. The rest is easy. Anyone older than seven can do it."

Harbinger growled. "I get it. I lived under a rock."

The pilot entered the cabin and let them know they were ready to go. The prisoners had been left with a single knife and datapad between them to get out and call for transport with. Loser let him know to get them out of there.

* * *

**-Darth Vader-**

"Ah, you are already here. Good." Tarkin stated as he entered.

Vader stood silent in front of the man's desk. He gave a barely impressionable nod in acknowledgement. His dark eyes glazed over from Tarkin over to the Senator. It was barely noticeable, perhaps lasting a fraction of a second, but the man had tensed at the sight of the Sith Lord. Vader might have missed it entirely were it not for the emotions he was sensing from the politician. The man was terrified of him.

Good.

Tarkin sat in his chair and pushed himself up to his desk. An organized assortment of documents covered it, and he took a moment to pile it up neatly to the side. Organa took the moment to enter the room and sit while pointedly avoiding Vader's stare.

Vader had never liked the man, and he never made an effort to show otherwise.

The man had given off too many vibes since they first met that there was something… something being kept hidden. Something of importance.

Vader could figure out what it was if he tunneled into the man's memories, but that was something Palpatine was adamant he not do. Not that the Emperor gave the slightest thought to their well-being, but it would give off an image he did not want until due time, and the man took perverted pleasure from playing games with politicians.

"I trust you have been briefed as to why I requested your presence, Lord Vader?"

Vader slowly turned his head away from Organa to Tarkin. The Sith Lord remained standing. He looped his arms together. "You want me to be involved in the negotiations with the Hutt Cartel. What more I would have been told was saved for face-to-face to prevent anyone listening in."

Tarkin nodded. "A wise precaution, though I can imagine you found the lack of forthrightness irritating. To be more specific: I want you to be head of security for Bail Organa while he sues the Cartel for peace."

Vader knew instantly what his purpose was. On the surface it was to provide security. What better safety is there then a powerful Sith Lord? Deeper down it was not about security, it was about sabotage. Vader's presence alone was scary enough to be seen as a threat by any negotiators the Senator would be meeting with.

It was as close to blackmail as one could imagine.

The fact that the Senator was saying nothing against the request showed how much the man was willing to bend, bow, and suck up to survive. Yet… somehow the man held true to principle. Vader wasn't sure to find that a respectful strength or straight up hypocrisy.

"No."

Tarkin paused. He was not a man used to hearing 'no', but Vader also knew the man wouldn't backlash like some spoiled brat. He was quite reasonable.

Tarkin asked, "And why is that?"

"I am under direct orders from the Emperor to hunt a Jedi hiding on Nar Shadaa."

"Then it would appear he has not obligated you with your updated orders directly. You are being handed to me for the coming period to be given orders as I see fit."

"I would like to see the signature of those orders." Vader requested.

"I will have them sent to you." Tarkin acquiesced. "Now then. I already know of your hunt, and so I will say that when you are not directly working with the Senator then you may continue it. But for the coming days his work takes priority. When it is done then you may resume as normal. Is that reasonable?"

"I want a Sith squad, inspected by me, to continue my work in my absence. I do not want this trail getting cold."

"I allow it."

"Then I have no argument." Vader nodded. "I trust you have Sith in your detail capable of hunting? I have already interrogated the prisoners."

"I will let you pick from the Sith under my command, but now we should be discussing plans for the upcoming negotiations." Tarkin tapped a datapad and passed it down the desk towards the Senator. Organa picked it up. "This is the list of my lawyers and non-confidential information specialists. It is complete with their resume, security survey, biological and health records, and other information you might need to handpick your team. Turn away as many as you want and accept as many as you want. If none are to your liking then I can extend your reach further until you are satisfied."

"Thank you." Organa smiled politely and pocketed the information for later work. "Do I have access to Nar Shadaa records and the Imperial fleet records? If I am going to be able to go to the table with my head high, I will need a clear picture from all angles as to what happened and lead up to this."

"Then you will have it." Tarkin stated.

Vader raised an eyebrow within the confines of his helmet. He was surprised the man was being given so much. It was a dangerous gambit to let him see too much.

Tarkin looked to Vader, "I will assign you a team of assistants at your command to help you inspect and arrange a proper security detail for the Senator, as well as arrange proper escort to and from the negotiation table."

Vader nodded.

Tarkin looked between them. "Now. We have time before the assigned time, so take what due diligence you require to do this properly and thoroughly. I am sure you have enough to keep you occupied, Senator."

"I most certainly do."

"Then I won't hold you back from it." Tarkin motioned to a soldier to the side. "This man will take you to your cabin. You can travel freely and if you need anything, let me know."

The Senator stood, bowed deeply, and left following the soldier.

Vader waited until the door closed before turning to Tarkin, "You waste resources and time on him."

Tarkin raised an eyebrow, but otherwise said nothing.

Vader continued, after guessing his thoughts. "You think he might succeed?"

"No, but he will certainly try. Make no mistake, war will benefit us more than peace, but I am under strict orders not to restrain the Senator's attempts in any form or fashion." Tarkin sighed. "Organa will try. He will do everything within his power to establish peace without setting the Empire back, and we will let him. I won't hold him back, and nor will you."

Tarkin stood and walked to the window to peer out. "Organa will make his move for peace… just as we make moves for war. We will see who wins." Tarkin motioned to the desk. "Look there. If he had payed attention, he might have seen what I kept in plain view."

Vader, curious, picked up the documents and peered through them. He paused on the very first one. "The Cartel is proactive."

"Yes, they are. They are doing exactly what we want them to."

"So I take it… we won't be doing anything with this information?"

"What information?"

Vader nodded in understanding and dropped it in the waste bin before igniting his lightsaber and tapping the edge of the paper with it. The plasma heat set it aflame instantly until the words 'terrorist bombing' disappeared from existence.

Vader stood by Tarkin and gazed out as well. Once the fire in the wastebin had gone on for some time, Tarkin said, "I predict the Cartel may be making a move of some kind, so I have requested the presence of Echo Station to be joining your escort as a precaution."

Vader snapped his head towards the man in surprise. Tarkin was grinning ferally. "You are toying with the Senator just as much as the Emperor."

"Like I said. I will let him do as he wants to accomplish his goal. Who knows, he might just surprise me and manage peace despite these things."

"And if he does?"

"Then I will accept defeat. I will acknowledge that Organa managed to beat me in establishing unnecessary peace over a war that would boost our economy greatly, but I greatly doubt he will. This is a war, not between the Empire and Cartel, but between the Cartel and Empire and Organa. He is the only one desiring peace right now of all of us. But enough of that… how did your interrogations go?"

"The man was stronger than expected. Ex-military veteran. I had to break him to get anything out, and then it was merely images, impressions, and a name. First I got the impression from him that he does not owe his allegiance to the Cartel, but rather another group. He was an outsider to Nar Shadaa."

"Odd." Tarkin stated. "So an outside presence is trying to influence the war."

"The second fact I grabbed from him was another impression. This group of his is small. It's not a full nation."

Tarkin mused. "Mercenary group? Rebels? Terrorists? A gang with interests in Nar Shadaa? Pirates most likely."

"The third fact was nothing more than a word I pulled out of him before his mind shattered: Harbinger."

Tarkin blinked in surprise. "Harbinger? A in messenger of the gods? Of the Force? Of destiny? Of Fate? Quite an unusual word to pull out. Are you sure it is not just the broken rambling of a broken man?"

"I'm sure."


	24. S01 Ep24

**Note: Something very important that I wish to bring up is the technology developed in regular Star Wars vs my fanfiction.**

**Star Wars military sounds like it is designed around mass production of the cheapest thing possible. I'm sorry, but that is not smart. There are multiple instances in history where even a small technology gap has resulted in a few soldiers laying waste to a thousand or more. A few Conquistadors killed thousands because the native Americans couldn t get through the armor that was simple for Europeans. Americans had guns just like the Korean's did, but something like a minigun by three soldiers killed thousands. Sniper rifles that can knock off a guy at the distance of miles!**

**Yeah let's just clone millions of soldiers, stick them in armor, give them a gun, and have them charge the enemy.**

**No. Imperial soldiers will be smart. They will have access to technology that is superior to everyone else.**

**In addition there will be technology invented that just makes sense in a galaxy with so much variety and technological capability. Such as not just cloning, but cellular regeneration. Ships made of organic material that can self-heal, space colonies similar to what you might see in Gundam. Ships with a variety of weapons ranging from hacking, physical projectiles with a variety of bullets, explosives, missiles, drones, laser weapons, etc. Even ships comparable to what you might see in halo with a super-cannon taking up a huge portion of the ship. Entire battalions of soldiers will have a variety of gear and importance, rather than just one or two types of Stormtroopers for all.**

**In the end it depends on the culture as to what direction it has developed, and the access it has. Like only a few planets are capable cloners. But the technology should still be there, and that is what I think is something Star Wars, as a whole, could use more.**

**But what this specific chapter does is more focus on a plot-point that I want to push a bit further before moving on to the next major phase. Namely Starkiller's relationship with Juno.**

**I am not instantly saying they won't be together. I am not saying they will be. I am not saying he will never care for woman. I am not saying he ever will either. That is why these moments are necessary for me to let the characters explore things for themselves and slowly cement themselves.**

**I think it more important to explore Starkiller from a basic human contact standpoint before exploring the possibility of a relationship.**

* * *

**"Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I've ever known." -Chuck Palahniuk**

* * *

**-Harbinger-**

"It s a computer "

Harbinger stood just in the door to what had to be the largest computer he had ever seen. It was a hanger full of computers in a vacuum environment. It wasn't large enough to be as big as say, an AT-AT, but it was still very large. It was covered in blinking lights and there was a terminal on it. Harbinger, Loser, and some contact of his stood in a ray-shielded alcove just above it. There was a terminal in their little area and the shielding was to allow them to have air while keeping the machine as cool as possible. It was still just a computer though.

"It's far more than just a computer." Loser said in awe. "It s a masterpiece."

"Mhm." Harbinger allowed. He looked to the contact. "And this is an identity farm? I don't see anything related to a farm here."

The contact looked to Loser as if to say 'how much of a noob is he?', and Loser just nodded in understanding. "Just let me do the talking." Loser said. Harbinger shrugged and leaned against the railing. He was already bored.

Loser said, "We are looking for a young man, a bastard, former delinquent with say an Imperial navy background."

"Is he looking to be an officer in the navy?"

"He made it as far as Corporal, but was given a dishonorable discharge."

"Ah! I have three of those!" The contact pulled up three faces on the terminal for Loser to look over.

"'Have'?" Harbinger questioned, confused.

"Shh." Loser flipped through the information. "Too dumb. Married? You want to be married?" Loser looked up at Harbinger.

"Are you serious?"

"I'll take that as a no. This one will work." Loser decided on the third one.

"Ah!" The contact chuckled. "Aithusa! He was always a trouble child! Much too smart for his own good! Never got along well with others, a bit of a loner, but got good grades and made his parents proud. The discharge was because his anti-social behavior earned him the disrespect of his men, and they put the blame on him for something that was actually not his fault. He will make a good one. I will miss him greatly." The contact wiped a tear from his eye. "He played such beautiful music!"

"How much for him?"

The contact gave his price, to which Loser handed over his credit chip, as Harbinger was getting more and more confused, "We're buying a slave?"

"You really don't know what an identity farm is, do you?" Loser wondered. He handed his contact another chip, and the man plugged it into the terminal before pulling it back out, giving it a goodbye kiss, and handing it to him.

They returned to their ship, and Loser handed Harbinger a copy of the chip his contact had provided. "There, now we have a recruiter."

Harbinger looked between the chip and him. "You bought a slave as our recruiter?"

Loser shook his head fervently. He sat down in front of the young man and put his hands together to explain. "No, no okay look. An identity farm is a virtual simulation. It begins with fake birth certificates. A computer generated person is made, voice, beliefs, and all, and is raised within the virtual environment. The person grows, has experiences, gets grades in actual public schools like you and me, gets bank accounts, grows into adults with lives and experiences with other identities in the same simulation. The identity might get married to another identity, and thereby produce a third identity with its own fake birth certificate and Imperial ID, then this third one will grow just as its parent identities did. An identity farm is literally a virtual world where identities are grown, interact with each other, and have lives."

Loser pointed to Harbinger. "People like you, people like me, take on those lives when we need to. So far as the world is concerned, we have lived ligament lives. Whoever handles recruiting for us will take on the name Aithusa to outsiders, and as far as the world is concerned, Aithusa is a real person. Aithusa might have had a crush in middle school, lost his virginity in high school, and had a bastard child he never knows about after he graduated and entered the navy. I don't know, not until I have looked into the details of Aithusa, but so far as the world is concerned. He is real."

Harbinger silently soaked the information in, before looking at the chip in his hand. "So this is a mask of sorts. An identity without a person just as I am a person without an identity who wears a mask to have one. That can't be cheap."

Loser whistled. "Ohh, no. It's not. For a proper identity the life-rate of the virtual world would have to be the same speed as the real world. The only thing that makes identity farms prosperous is having a huge number of identities at once, millions or more, interacting and living and growing within the server. That s why the computer you saw was so big in this galaxy of small processors. That s why you saw it in a near absolute-zero vacuum to let it run at full strength without blowing up from the sheer amount of heat it gives off."

"How much was it, then? Did we spend all of our money we got from the raid on this?"

"Don't worry about it. The guy owed me a favor." Loser brushed him off. "It may not be cheap, but not so expensive that customers can't get an identity when they are in a bind and are willing to take on a small loan from the farm. I figure we could get a nice group of identities with how much we will get once we got from selling off the goods, but I think the old man would rather us put that money into other things."

"If that's the case, can you do something for me? I need this to be discreet. Get one of a woman."

Loser raised an eyebrow. "A woman?"

Harbinger nodded. "I have credits. I'll pay the guy under the table. I don't want anyone, even the guys back at base to know. I just need you to talk shop and get a good identity that will keep her out of trouble. I owe a friend and want to clear it as best as I possibly can while we are here."

* * *

**-Juno Eclipse-**

**-Rebel Base-**

Juno grinned as she entered the doors of the rebel base. She adjusted her bag against her hip and wove her way through people.

It really had been too long since she had been back. Her undercover job was good for how it kept her busy, in a field she loved, and gave her exposure to information her handler said was necessary. Now if only it gave more vacation days As it was she would only be able to get away twice a year to visit the rebels.

Months had passed since she left and it had shown on her. She let her hair grow out down some (both a functional way of changing her appearance and looking nice) and had become used to a less formal, more relaxed attire. She had gained a bit of muscle from heavy lifting, in comparison to her Imperial job of sitting in a chair all day, but it was not going to be apparent with her looser clothing, hoodie jacket, and slacks. She had also gained a newfound confidence in herself outside of the Imperial machine, as both a woman and a person of intelligent thought without having her existence spoon-fed to her. As an Officer her clothes, her apartment, her work, her orders, her education, and even her family were government issue, government granted, and at the end of it all required actually little thought or input on her part. It was tough, now, having to fend for herself but she found it gave her a great deal of satisfaction.

Confidence can perhaps be a subtle thing to the individual, but it showed in every aspect of her to the point that no one recognized her.

Just as she had changed, she found so had the rebel base, as it was so far. The number of fighters outside had grown. Single-man fighters did them little good at the time, but she was surprised to see an Imperial shuttle, and a few corvettes. In orbit she had been escorted by no less than two corvettes and a small frigate!

The rebels had also changed drastically. She initially knew them to be made up of Falon's soldiers and civilians from Nar Shadaa. Now she was seeing bandits and pirates and many more civilians than before mixed in. The population had increased many times over. The atmosphere was less orderly and more neutrally chaotic. The people looked less trained and more rugged.

Some of the men sitting on a crate stopped cleaning their gun to look up and wink at her. Shivers went up her spine and her pace increased a bit.

Perhaps it was a little too much of a change too quickly.

Regardless, nothing could stop her smile when she ran into PROXY in its usual holographic form.

"Hey, how are you?" She greeted.

PROXY smiled in greeting as well. "I am doing well, Mrs. Eclipse."

It turned its head to the side in curiosity. Juno nearly burst out in laughter because the imitation to Starkiller was just uncanny. Made her wonder if Starkiller picked up the head tilt from PROXY or the other way around.

"I must say, you look different "

She shrugged, suddenly a bit self-conscious. "A bit You haven't changed at all. Might want to consider the fact that it's not normal for a person to look the exact same way each day. I would have expected your hologram to show some form of age."

"I will take that into advisement. Should I get grey hairs, weight, and wrinkles like you?" It asked in complete innocence.

In hindsight, a droid designed to do functions ranging from assassination, energy-to-matter holographic imagery, long range communication, hacking, to psychological analysis should have seen the fist coming.

An hour later Falon entered the infirmary to find her having a cast put on her hand. "What did you hit, the wall?" He wondered.

"You should see the other guy." Juno Eclipse replied grimly. In truth, PROXY walked away without a scratch while she was left with a bruised knuckle. However she didn t know if Starkiller had revealed PROXY's existence to anyone and so wanted to keep with his wishes. It was Starkiller's secret to reveal one day.

"I guess I should." He smiled. "Are you about done?"

The nurse said, "Almost. Give me five minutes, if you don't mind."

"Sure." Falon pulled up a chair and waited until the cast was finished. A mere bruise was not worth opening a pack of medigel. When the nurse was done, Falon requested space for them to talk in private, and after the room was clear, he turned to her, "I'm a bit sad you decided to go punching people rather than meeting me."

"Sorry " She blushed in embarrassment. She had screwed up

"Its fine." He motioned it aside. "Let's just not make a habit of it. You got the info for me?"

"I do." She motioned to her bag with her good hand, and Falon handed it to her. She rifled through it and pulled out a small drive. "Here it is."

He took it and inserted it into his datapad. They sat in silence as he looked over the pictures, numbers, names, charts, blueprints, and other data she had provided. Most of it would come down to nonsense, but could come in handy later. His brow scrunched as he focused, looked back and forth, compared notes with information on his own datapad, and finally nodded in satisfaction.

"Very good. This is a wealth of information." He copied the files to his own pad and handed the drive back to her. "It has been purged of all data and reformatted back to its factory defaults, so if anyone catches you with it, it appears to be just your average drive."

"Understood. May I ask some questions?"

"Certainly. There are some things I can't tell you for security purposes, but I will tell you if I can."

"How have we progressed? I've been rather out of touch and everything already looks so different."

He flinched in sympathy. "Yes, I imagine you might feel out of sorts. The short version is that the mission of other teams have been to sabotage the Empire on a small scale, and gather allies who are pushed to the edge. We gained a large group that would have been wiped out on Nar Shadaa if we hadn't pulled them out, and we gained a second group of local pirates that have differing loyalties."

"What?"

"The pirate leader is a former clone soldier who was betrayed by his very nation, but from what I have seen of his members there are generally two factions among them. There are those that follow him only because Loser, their pirate leader ("that is quite a name"), is strong and is not afraid to bite the big boys. They are the type to only care about money. Then there are those that follow him more deeper loyalty than that and have been with him for years. The other group is split into nearly hundreds of factions."

"Hundreds?" Juno wondered in disbelief.

Falon shrugged. "It s a former gang. Reasons are as unique as the person. Some joined since the gang was the only one that paid, some joined for fear, some joined to look cool, some joined to simply join something bigger than themselves, some grew up in the gang or had family in the gang, some joined because the option of not joining would have made them an enemy and endangered their lives."

Juno scoffed in disbelief. People who joined such things out of need she sympathized with, but there was nothing 'cool' about becoming an immoral part of a tyrannical regime. Of course, what did that make her? "And you think they will be loyal to our rebellion?"

"I inspected their hearts myself as they were interviewed. The ones I judged too big of a risk were turned away, but there is an overarching theme among them of gratefulness. We rescued entire families, Juno. Brothers, sisters, parents and children True there are a lot of lawless ones among them, but they mean well. I made sure of it. The ones that were so puffed up with pride they can't see straight, or are greedy to the point of excess, or would turn on us for a quick coin, I turned away."

Juno stared at him. She heard, but she could barely imagine it. "Entire families Falon, our rebellion is not equipped to handle that many children! We do dangerous stuff! What if the Empire comes for us!"

"I know!" Falon groaned. "But they would have died if we had left them."

"I'm not arguing that it's just This place." She motioned around the cavern. It was an infirmary but it was still a cavern in an asteroid. "What we do "

"Trust me it is already on our minds. The pirate group and Harbinger have done well in raiding Imperial bases, but that will only bring us revenue for so long, then the funding for food and supplies will run out. This asteroid doesn t have what it takes to handle our village."

"V-village?" Juno's eyes widened in shock. "You can't mean "

Falon smiled. "What? You think even rebels can't have a place to rest their head? You think a rebellion can't have a home or family?" Falon leaned forward. "It's just talk right now so keep it under wraps, but one of the little topics the leaders will have to handle is what to do with the civilians. The ones that won't or can't fight. We cannot go to any nation right now, not without fear of the Empire catching us. So, this is just my belief, but we will have to establish our own hidden country in the outer rim."

Juno stared at him in silence for a long moment. At first she felt nothing, just needed the words and idea to roll around in her head. Then it clicked and she suddenly felt overwhelmed, drowning, being turned upside down by forces far beyond what she had originally expected when she agreed to help Starkiller so long ago.

But at the same time she saw how far they had come. To an outsider it would appear to be miniscule, merely babysteps. Perhaps they were perhaps this was nothing more than babysteps for the rebellion. But Juno had been there since the beginning, since the very thought of rebellion perhaps planted itself in Starkiller's mind, and she had been there when they discussed the idea of betrayal and loyalty. She had no illusions that Starkiller was not as moral and righteous as she might want him to be. His hands were bloody and his soul blackly imprinted by Vader since birth. But there was a bright shining ideal in him that even the Empire, in all of its vaunted glory, had proven time and time again to fall short of loyalty.

Perhaps, she thought, Starkiller was so loyal and cared for those beneath him because that is how he would have wanted to have been treated. He was once loyal, and so in turn wanted loyalty and accepted it as he would have once wanted to have been accepted.

"Juno?" Falon asked in concern.

Juno blinked awake from her thoughts and realized her eyes were wet. She rubbed her eyes on her sleeve and laughed-cried. "I'm fine, just happy. Even people like us need a home, right?"

People like Starkiller and her and all these people they were picking up.

"That's good." Falon smiled. "Now, unless there is nothing else, I think some vacation is in order. I would like you to continue the mission on your return."

"Of course."

"Then I bid you good day." He rose and waved as he left. He paused at the door. "Oh, and see your friend will you? He's been antsy since he heard you was coming back."

Juno giggled. Harbinger antsy was not something she could picture. Starkiller, yes. Harbinger, no. It completely conflicted with his stoic alter-ego. (If only Juno knew how Loser could bring out of his stoicism.)

Alone, Juno relaxed and closed her eyes a moment as she let the idea come over her. A home a hidden place away from the Empire. True, they would always be looking over their shoulder, but now she firmly felt she wouldn't be doing it alone.

"Hehe, I'll probably go mad with boredom " She chuckled.

Juno rose soon and looked for her friend. Starkiller was not hard to find. For all of his skill as an assassin and hiding, he stuck out like an awkward teenage shy sore thumb in the middle of a crowd. Well to anyone else he would seem stoic, uncaring, dismissive. She knew otherwise. He didn't have much of any social interaction in his life outside of herself, PROXY, Vader, and a few pilots before her. Not exactly a long list and never more than two at a time. Stick a person like that in a group of dozens and you have a fish out of water.

Starkiller perked up at the sight of her from the table, and tried to approach but stopped short since a kid was wrapping himself to his leg under the desk. He looked down at him and said, "Let go."

"No!" The kid squealed.

Starkiller stared. She couldn't see his face, but his posture made her think he was gaping. Juno had to turn aside and cover her mouth to stifle her bursting laughter. Starkiller looked as if the very idea of being disobeyed was beyond his imagination. As his master and father figure was Vader, disobedience probably was.

The only worrying part was whether or not he would hand out punishment in the same fashion

"Child, let me go."

"I said no!"

"And I said let go!"

"I don't care!"

"Kid, I will flip this ******* table!"

"Really!?" The kid's eyes grew wide, bright, and twinkled in excitement.

It was clearly not the answer Starkiller was expecting, because he was stunned silent a second time. Juno couldn't contain herself any longer and laughed. "You're arguing with a child! Just let him have your leg."

"It's my leg!" Starkiller-Harbinger argued indignantly.

"Harbinger " Juno muttered.

Starkiller-Harbinger looked from the kid, to Juno, back to the annoying brat, up to his friend, again to the parasite, and back up to his betrayer. Clearly weighing his options and ability to act. Juno had no doubt he could kill the child in twenty ways with just everything in reach, but he wasn't making a move to do so. Instead he looked like a trapped dog with his tail between his legs.

"Help me " Starkiller-Harbinger whispered (whimpered).

Juno wished she had a camera recording this.

She smiled and reaching under the table proceeded to tickle the boy under the arms. Naturally the child roared in laughter, let go, and tried to pry her off. Starkiller reacted by leaping back so hard he stumbled and fell over his chair and gained a safe distance of two meters.

Starkiller-Harbinger turned sharply to his Wookie and snarled, "You were supposed to protect me!"

The Wookie raised an eyebrow. "You want protection from a youngling? Are you serious?"

"What's your name, little guy?" Juno asked the kid.

"Michael!" the kid replied.

"Well, Michael. Why don't you go find your friends and play with them, okay? We have adult stuff to discuss."

The kid's composure instantly darkened, though he pasted a fake smile on his face and nodded. Juno felt something was wrong, but couldn't place what. He was most likely having difficulty adapting to the new environment and was having trouble making friends thus far. She should throw a word to Orga to get the kids together. Michael ran off.

Juno walked up to Starkiller and Juwaar. "Harbinger, he's just a kid. He's not dangerous."

Harbinger looked back at her and said in a dead-pan voice, "I was."

Despite how potentially awkward those two words made it, Juno wasn't going to relent to his argument. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Juwaar's eyes widen briefly. "Yeah, but he's not you."

Harbinger sniffed, but after a moment, he nodded. After another moment he changed the subject, "It is good to see you. I haven't seen you in a while." His head tilted. Juno saw PROXY do the same head-tilt in the back of her mind. It really was uncanny "You look different."

'I swear, if he says anything about me gaining five pounds, I'm going to need a second cast.' She thought. Despite her aggravated thoughts, she let her pleasure of his company show in her dangerous smile, "Oh? How so?"

Juwaar looked between them worriedly, catching the inevitable trap that was the female sex asking for a male about how she looks.

"I Uh " Harbinger cleared his throat. "I don't know. Your hair is longer. Your clothes are different. You stand more confidentially. You don't look like you are wearing any makeup." Juwaar drew in a sharp breathe, and Juno felt a hint of aggravation at the last statement, but let it pass. So far he was on the right track, stumbling awkwardly over himself, but on the right track still.

"You carry a weapon now. You smile more than I've seen in a long time." Starkiller continued. "I don't know. You just look different 'good' different I guess."

She nodded and smiled brightly in thanks. It wasn't perfect, but it was perfect for him.

Starkiller cleared his throat again, clearly uncomfortable as he fidgeted with himself. "Shall we take this to my cabin? I have something for you."

"Sure." She allowed. Juwaar looked questioning between them, but otherwise said nothing. Juno figured Starkiller was a very closed off person and didn't allow anyone, much less invite, to his cabin. For it to be a woman was even more unusual. Juno understood and felt it was fine if he wanted to spend time with her in a place where he could breathe. And she trusted him not to make any unwanted motions.

If he was actually interested in females to begin with. If Juno didn't know better she could almost say he was asexual he just might be.

She shook her thoughts away. He was a good friend, perhaps even a best one. He had her best interest in heart. His business was his own. All the same she couldn't shake the concern that he was so internally isolated that he would grow up alone.

They entered his cabin and the Wookie closed the door. Harbinger said for them to have privacy, and the Wookie left. Immediately Starkiller threw off his hoodie robe, unsnapped his helmet, and pulled it off. He breathed in the semi-fresh air deeply like a drowning man. "Oh, you have no idea how claustrophobic this can make me "

"I can, actually. Used to wear a standard issue Imperial pilot helmet back in the day." Juno replied.

"Oh? Oh, yes. You would have. Seen a few of those, but " He stopped short as he unclasped his armor piece by piece.

"But had never considered there were people inside them?" She wondered.

Starkiller gulped, stopped momentarily, and looked guilty before continuing. "No, I've always known there are people inside. Just not that they might be claustrophobic."

"Everyone has their little fears, desires, dreams, and dislikes. People are easy to remove when they are nothing, but once you sympathize with something as simple as a confining helmet it's not the same is it?"

Starkiller closed his eyes and shook his head grimly. "But then would it make a difference? I have them too and they won't hesitate to kill me either if put in the position to."

"That's what war does." Juno put a hand on his shoulder in sympathy. "It puts people who might otherwise be friends in a position to kill each other."

Starkiller looked to her as that thought passed through him, and she felt some kind of understanding come over him. He said, "If told to, I would have killed you too. I wouldn't have hesitated."

"I know." She said simply.

And she did know that. Luck, fate, the Force, God whatever existence it was that determined that Starkiller would not be ordered to kill her was beyond her control. She was thankful they weren't enemies. She quite liked him. He was a very good friend. Misguided, but a good friend.

She didn't ache from the possibility of the what-if herself, but she didn't sympathize with Starkiller. He looked like he had aged a few years just from the thought of being ordered to kill her, to kill his friend.

"But you never did." She acknowledged. "And the thing about the past is that it is about hindsight, reflection, and learning. We all make mistakes. I won't say obeying orders is a mistake, you would have done what you needed to do from a higher authority, but just don t hang yourself up on what-if's. Trust me " She chuckled. "Philosophers, historians, and environmentalists get wrapped up in what-ifs for years and get nowhere."

He nodded. It wasn't so much a comforting thought for him as it was an acknowledgement and focus. She was right, there was no need to ponder what-ifs. Rather, Starkiller wanted to focus on what-was, the present.

Present.

"Oh!" Starkiller remembered. He finished unclasping his armor around his legs, and pulled himself out of them. He was wearing long shorts down to his knees and a long-short shirt to his elbows so he wasn't naked. Even so, Juno held back a blush in wondering if he would have stripped down completely without the slightest concern or notice for decency.

Starkiller retrieved a jewelry box and handed it to her. Raising an eyebrow, Juno wondered if he truly had gotten her jewelry of all things. She liked a bit of girly in her life, but Starkiller was the last person she would expect such gifts from.

"Uh " She muttered.

"Go on." He motioned.

"Oh." She opened it. "It s a chip. What's on it?"

"That is an identity. We got it at an identity farm and I remembered you had said once you wanted the option to escape to be free." Starkiller rubbed his arm awkwardly. He really was in a position to be unlike himself today. First handling a kid, and now giving a friend a gift. He had never done it with PROXY. Or Vader. Or anyone actually. He felt anxiously she wouldn't like it. His anxiety only grew as she stared at it.

"Look it was stupid and-" He tried to take it back, but was stopped short when Juno grabbed his outreaching arm and pulled him into a tight hug.

He was left standing there with his arms out, eyes wide, sweating, and suffocating. He stopped breathing entirely. Human contact! Lots and lots of human contact! His fight or flight senses kicked into overdrive and the only thing keeping him from attacking her was the voice in his head screaming that she would never hurt him.

"Put your arms around me " Juno whispered. "It's called a hug. People do it as thanks and small affection. Anyone who qualifies as a friend qualifies for a hug."

"Uh-huh." He forced himself to breathe. His arms were as straight as boards as he slowly put them around her, a tiny bit. "Right just a hug." He took a deep breathe. "Just a hug Just a hug "

A part of her inside broke for him hearing him repeat the phrase like a mantra and his body snap straight, yet be coiled, like an iron snake. After a good long moment she let him go, and like with the kid, he moved back quickly as though afraid of human contact.

"Thank you. I promise I'll use it if I need to, but I don't have any plans to go anywhere."

"Okay." He said awkwardly. "That s good to know. So long as you have an escape plan."


	25. S01 Ep25

**Loyalty and devotion lead to bravery. Bravery leads to the spirit of self-sacrifice. The spirit of self-sacrifice creates trust in the power of love - Morihei Ueshiba**

* * *

"Harbinger."

Grand Moff Tarkin muttered the name to himself as he considered the reports he read. It was a simple name at first. Perhaps one held by a young adult more interested in what sounded 'cool'. Tarkin was unsure whether to agree or not, and he didn't care enough to give it much thought. What he did realize, however, was that there was far more to the name than meant the eye.

Harbinger was a mercenary. Harbinger was hired by the Great Inquisitor. That same day a fellow mercenary hired by the Great Inquisitor reported to the Hutts that Harbinger had killed the Sith Inquisitor. The Sith decided to show up at this exact moment to arrest the Hutts, and failed.

Tarkin closed his eyes and let the facts fit together. There were holes where he knew he was ignorant, but all the same many realizations were obvious to the prudent observer.

Out of thousands, if not millions, of bounty hunters in the galaxy, only the highest could achieve the same number of accomplishments in the same amount of time. And something that the greatest bounty hunters had that explained this was a background for fighting, adapting, and being lone wolfs. Bubba Hutt was a Mandalorian noble, for instance. Others were manufactured to be highly skilled or trained their entire life. Harbinger's resume was good. Too good for an amateur. Harbinger was either lucky or came from a background that supported strong fighting skills along the same lines.

Despite what people believe, the Moff was a staunch believer in luck. Luck's definition merely being the moment when preparation meets opportunity.

There were notes on the reports, by the Moff's staff, that it was unusual timing for the Harbinger to rise up at the same time as the Inquisitor was looking for a group to form. This was something the Moff was unsure about.

It was due to the Harbinger's striking resume that the Inquisitor hired him. Did the Harbinger know the Inquisitor was hiring mercenaries? It wasn't exactly a secret. If the Harbinger's timing was purposefully timed with the Inquisitor's looking for mercs, then it would also be supported by the fact that supposedly the Harbinger killed the Inquisitor.

Supposedly.

The Inquisitor showed up to disprove his death but at the same time where was he? Was the second Inquisitor a fake? Was the second Inquisitor real?

This was the point where Tarkin's understanding split. Rather than stop, he allowed it to drift down multiple directions.

Should the second Inquisitor be fake, then the very mercenaries he had hired killed him and tricked the Hutts and Empire into war with each other. This was the logical conclusion. But then who would it benefit? Were these mercenaries merely content to cause chaos?

Should the second Inquisitor be real, then the mercenaries logically had attempted to kill him, and the Inquisitor returned to arrest his assaulters. But then where was the Inquisitor? Had the Hutts captured him? So far as sighting's go the Inquisitor had simply disappeared into thin air.

Which was real? Were either one? Tarkin was inclined to say Harbinger really had killed his patron, and the second one was faked. The Inquisitor's disappearance supported the idea that he was fake. In addition the Hutt was vile, but far from stupid. The Hutts knew their place and how politics worked. They wouldn't risk war over a simple Inquisitor, even the highest one of the order

A thought struck Tarkin and he allowed to stir. "Unless he had dug up something the Hutts wanted hidden "

Hutts could walk away from this by having murdered the inquisitor and left the body in a dark place where he would simply disappear at the hands of his own mercenaries But then why would they fake his reappearance on themselves and stir war?

Tarkin shook his head. This wasn't it. It was comparable to handling a papercut by cutting your hands off.

So whether the Inquisitor had dug something up or not it wasn't that. The Hutts didn't risk war. They were pushed tricked into it. By the very mercenaries hired by the Sith Inquisitor.

But who did it benefit?

Tarkin held onto this one thought. He sent an order to have the fellow mercenaries captured and interrogated. They would undoubtedly fill in some gaps he felt was missing. But the idea of who benefited from a battle between the Empire and Cartel nagged at him.

The list was long. The mercenaries could work for another Hutt that would bow at the Empire's feet. They could work for another nation entirely that wanted to see the two forces collide. They could work for a corrupt politician in the Empire and seek to discredit a rival or gain something from-

He whispered, "Work for a corrupt politician " Tarkin's eyes widened briefly before narrowing in focus.

The only other time Harbinger appeared was on Kashyyk. He stirred the conflict between the Wookies and Empire. The Wookies were given a small reprieve from the siege being held against them, and the Imperial lesser Moff stationed there was dishonored. Did the Wookies hired Harbinger? Perhaps, but unlikely. They would have wanted slaves freed, not just an opportunity to flee. The aliens had strong bonds of family, honor, and strength. They would flee if pushed to the extreme, such as these days, but only ONLY with their family.

But they didn't gain anything.

If Harbinger had been hired by the Wookies, he would have aimed deeper at the throat of the Imperial forces. A skilled saboteur could have done several things. Including capturing both of the leaders stationed there. Instead all he does is humiliate one Not kill. Not harm. Just humiliate.

Who benefits from the humiliation of a politician in war time?

Another politician.

Who had been noted to be conveniently spending time on Nar Shadaa not long before the Harbinger's appearance.

Organa.

Who benefited from Harbinger's brief existence on Kashyyk?

Organa.

Who was publicly known to have once been a proud supporter of the Jedi traitors? (Among which it was theorized Harbinger was one.)

Organa.

Tarkin clicked a few keys on his terminal, calling up his secretary. "Sir." Was the response.

"Good evening, Marx. Place a private call from my office, would you?"

His secretary responded punctually, like a good soldier. "Understood. Who shall I call, sir?"

Tarkin allowed his lips to curl into a small smirk. He chuckled darkly. "The Emperor."

**-Months later-**  
**-Kota-**

Kota gulped.

He paced back and forth. Back and forth. When his hand reached a wall, he would turn back around and walk to the other wall. With each click of the clock, his dread grew. For days now he been afraid. Afraid for what the mission would entail on its return. Harbinger, Loser, and Falon were on the largest operation conducted.

Something was moving through the Cartel territory. Something large. Something slow. Something that shouldn't exist on radar. Something that was moving through deep space rather than through monitored trafficked paths.

The appearance of this entity coincided with Kota feeling the Force again. He would have felt excited about having slowly settled his center to the extent he could hear and feel the Force again if only what he heard and felt wasn't dark. The Force was spinning, churning, moving towards a destination that felt darker still. It was a spiral in which the Force itself seemed to scream in pain and warned him that something bad was about to happen. A ripple in the force was becoming larger and larger until the Force was shaking.

Something big had been in the process of happening and was about to happen.

Kota looked into the Force in meditation to see where these ripples were coming from, but he had been granted nothing. Nothing tangible, at least. In truth he saw things, images and sounds, of such variety and passing through his mind in such speed that he couldn't grasp even one image or understand one word.

All he felt that was that something bad was coming. Something massive.

Today was worst of all. The Force had stopped screaming and panicking today. Today it was as though the Force was holding its breath. The calm before the storm. The eye of a hurricane. The withheld breath before the plunge.

Kota felt sweat build on his brow as he continued pacing.

His attention was broken by the gentle sound of ships descending and landing firmly on their haunches. His hands twitched with the need to run out and ensure all was well, but his contract with Harbinger, to stay hidden and on their personal shuttle, restrained his hand. The only times he left were in disguise and when the army was too busy to take much notice of him. Kota was a professional. He knew what he had to do.

It wasn't long before the shuttle door opened followed by the distinctive sound of boots stomping up the platform. Followed by this sound was the gentler, heavier steps of a Wookie, and the marching of a droid.

"Boy!" Kota rushed into the room. "What happened?!" He at once needed and dreaded the answer.

Harbinger drew back, startled by the old man's greeting. He shared a glance with his Wookie bodyguard, who shrugged, before answering, "Nothing happened. The mission went smoothly. A few scratches, but nothing a nice paintjob won't fix. We scouted the area, but found nothing. Whatever had been there had already moved on, so it's nothing for us to worry about. What got into you?" Starkiller had noticed that his Jedi Advisor was growing antsy of late, but this was the most panicked he had ever seen him. Starkiller grew tense, wondering if something had happened while he was gone. "Did something happen here?"

"No. Thankfully not." Kota forced a breath. So the mission had gone fine.

"Then what is the problem? What's got you like this?" Starkiller wondered.

Starkiller nudged Kota aside gently, and passed. They entered the lounge and Starkiller unloaded his mask onto the holotable along with a few cumbersome layers of armor. He kept his under armor on, as it was a second skin to him and didn't weigh him down. He removed his black gloves and ran his hands through his growing hair. He brought his hands to his face when he noticed a smell, and after a quick sniff he realized something horrific.

"Have you been using my brush!?" Zaalbar looked at him confused, but Starkiller explained, "My hair smells like Wookie!" Realizing now what his problem was, the Wookie couldn't help laughing, which only made Starkiller angry. "I only have the one! Use your own! I don't care to smell like Wookie!"

Kota observed the exchange warily. He didn't care about their squabbling, as he deemed most of them childish to him in his old age, but rather there was something concerning.

"Boy." Kota said, "Do you mean to tell me you can't feel it?"

"Feel what?" Starkiller wondered offhandedly. His attention too drawn to the smug Wookie to care.

"The feeling within the Force. The tension."

Starkiller eyed his bodyguard one last time before giving his attention to Kota. "I feel the Force, old man. I'm a Sith. Kind of goes with the territory, you know. Did you get senile on me?"

Zaalbar left to do his own thing, most likely nap.

Kota shook his head. "No. I know you are a Force-user, that is not what I mean. I mean do you feel the Force?"

" Speak Basic please?"

"Okay imagine the Force is an ocean. Sure, you and I can dip our hands into it, and throw it around or pull some off only for it to return to the waters, but what I mean is can you feel it? How cold the ocean is? The saltiness of it? The color? The sounds? That is what I mean in terms of the Force."

"Err okay? Interesting perspective to have on it but, yeah, sure I can at times. I focus on the Force when I meditate or use it, and it helps."

Kota nodded. If Starkiller only focused on feeling the Force when he was actively using the Dark Side or meditating, then that was still something. Kota expected a bit more for the boy's talent, but he was still young, and this only showed he lacked some fundamental basics.

"Then I want you to take a moment and 'feel'. Just breathe and feel the Force. Tell me what you find."

Starkiller eyed him, but relented. He hadn't meditated much lately as he was always on the move, but more than that it would let him get the old man off his back. Starkiller sat on the ground cross-legged against a wall, pulled up his lightsaber, and meditated as he always had. He stared into the shimmering red blade and focused on the Dark Side.

What he felt was interesting.

"The Dark Side feels active. Focused. The Dark Side usually feels active to me, it is by its nature a very active energy, but it seems to be moving towards something right now. It has a goal, something to focus on " Starkiller squinted as he focused. "Not sure what else you want, but I will say this is unusual. I've never felt the Force move like this before."

Starkiller looked up at the pronounce frown on Kota's face. "Is that what you mean?"

"Possibly " Kota allowed. "Your Dark Side viewpoint is alien to me, as for me it feels like a base tension in the galaxy. You know how when you are in a calm you can feel a hurricane coming? ("No.") Okay how about dead silence in a person veiling extreme anger you know is there?"

"Sounds like Vader." Starkiller smirked.

"Then you can understand what I mean. It just it feels like something big is about to happen."

"You mean like your premonition that we would be working together?" Starkiller wondered.

"Similar. What I saw with you was an active glimpse, a glance at time. This is just a silent feeling within the Force that has been building. However I am just as sure of this as I was with you."

"Have you tried getting a glimpse of this 'something big' then?"

Kota nodded. "I've seen a few things, none of which make sense. Destruction on a large scale moons."

"The first thing comes with war, and the second is too generic for me to reply to." Starkiller sighed. "If you feel this bad about it, why don't you just continue meditating? Meditate, meditate, and meditate some more. Keep looking into the Force until you are satisfied. If I hear anything I will let you know, and I'll leave PROXY to make sure you take care of yourself."

Kota considered it, and smiled. "I guess that might help, but taking care of me and looking out for me? It sounds almost like you are starting to care for this old man."

Starkiller scoffed. "As if, I just need you off my ass." He stood and left.

Kota chuckled and shook his head in amusement. Whatever his reasons, the boy's advice was sound. Kota was just begrudged to meditate for long periods of time he was a man of action or planning, not of silent observing and feeling and patience. He needed something to put his mind to actively.

"Maybe a drink will help " Kota murmured.

Kota did as he agreed with Starkiller. He limited himself to a small drink for his nerves, and he meditated. Hours passed, with regular interruptions from PROXY to eat, drink, and poop. (PROXY's choice of words, not his.) With help from PROXY, the sound volume of the room he meditated in was dimmed to the point it blocked all sound from the outside. He meditated in silence. He heard, at first his own heartbeat, and then the heartbeat of the universe. He felt the living Force. He saw

And what he saw shook him.

Kota all but flew from his meditation chambers and left the ship. He blindly bumped, knocked over, and scrambled on top of anything in his path. Whether it be objects or people. Sweat fell from his skin like tears. His mind could not comprehend anyone he came across, any voice, nor that he was supposed to stay hidden. His entire consciousness fell into a single thought and a single objective.

The men he passed dropped everything they were doing and stared, believing they were seeing a ghost. While the numbers of their rebellion had grown to include men from the shadier side of life, many still were of his original band and knew him on sight. The shock of seeing their former general blindly trying to find his way through their base spread so fast a group of gossiping woman would be jealous.

All this time Kota did not help the situation as he was yelling out violently. "Boy! Boy! It is all come to an end!" He was so overcome with what he saw that a part of him did believe it to be the end. The end to what? Even he could not say. He was overcome of emotion to the extent of seeming drunken.

Finally men tried to grab him and keep him from hurting himself, after he mistakenly ran headfirst into a pile of crates and they fell around him, but he lashed out with his arms and with the Force. Nothing would stop him from finding his prot g . He could barely even recognize they were allies, as in his mind he saw them as Imperials.

This commotion and news drew Harbinger's attention, and he saw the crowd building. He felt the uncontrolled power being thrown around, and he saw it to be Kota. In a moment Starkiller felt betrayed, as Kota agreed to not show himself publicly. He felt afraid of what this moment would do to his rebellion and his revenge. He was angry, nay! Livid! Furious! But Starkiller was also feeling something he didn't fully recognize at first. He felt concerned for Kota was a professional, the man wasn't even a problem when drunk. And Kota was acting VERY unprofessional to the extent of breaking the one iron-clad rule he had placed over him. If Kota could hold to agreements and be reasonable even at a completely stone-cold-knocked-out-drunk-on-the-floor state then what the actual hell had Kota seen that would send him into a crazed frenzy like this?

Harbinger woke the Dark Side within him, jumped into the fray, and with his power pushed back against Kota to hold it back. Objects fell around them where Kota's power no longer was holding them up. The people stepped back, no longer trying to help intervene now that Harbinger had arrived. From the distance Harbinger saw Loser was standing on an alcove watching from above.

"Boy " Kota whispered weepingly. He fell to his knees. Starkiller wanted to give the man a tongue-lashing or yell at him, but seeing the man so suddenly broken stopped him. For some reason he felt himself choking on his own words till they could not come out. He could only listen.

"It is coming to an end!" Kota said.

"What is?" Harbinger finally managed to ask. "What did you see?"

Kota raised his head until his blind eyes looked up towards the younger man. "The Republic will have its beating heart torn from its chest and it will die. It will decay and become something dark something evil. It will become a galaxy filled mothers screaming for their children, for a war machine that stomps on the skulls of everything that isn't itself. The Dark Side will completely consume the Light, until there is nothing left. And the Light will all but die with it."

Kota panted heavily. He was violently shaking and started to hyperventilate. "The former hope is gone all that is left is a new hope. Go to Ultretch! Save her."

Kota fell on his face unconscious.

**-Leia Organa-**

Among the planets the made up the Empire there are three types based on proximity. The first layer was the core worlds, worlds where the Empire's hold was strongest. The core worlds, in the time since the Empire's rise, was predominantly human. That is not to say there were no other species, but they were not protected by the same laws and were steadily immigrating toward the outer layers of the Empire.

The third layer of the Empire were mostly non-human. The distance from the core worlds made security and law enforcement on a galactic scale more difficult to respond to in a quick manner. The Empire had less opportunity to enforce a racist regime where it had a much harder time supplying. The result is that non-human species migrated to the outer edges of the Empire towards where it was safer and more free. Free in the sense that while the same laws were there, the local governing body didn't enforce them. The result was that many planets had their differing laws from the Empire while continuing to pay homage to it, and this was something Palpatine largely allowed to continue as it was simply too much effort to enforce every law to the many millions if not billions of worlds all the way to the outer rim of the Empire.

Especially when their navy only consisted of 250,000 Star Destroyers at most.

No, better to keep secure borders, and enforce law where it was necessary.

Which brings me to the second layer, residing between the first two. The second layer of the Empire was a hotbed of political activity for its proximity between the ordered core layer and the lawless outer rim. It was a series of systems at just the right distance from Coruscant to be filled with local governments wanting to keep their independent customs and laws, while still being close enough for the Empire to enforce tyranny.

Among these systems was the planet of Ultretch.

Ultretch was a planet of many species, with a local government that was able to have its independence up till now due to its unimportance. The Empire hadn't cared about enforcing its racist regime there. At least until now. The Empire had stepped in, removed the local governor, and placed the standard Imperial laws that gave the human species their rights. While neglecting the aliens.

That is not to say Palpatine was so stupid as to outright banish alien species from the Empire or punish them for existing, but there was a very clear separation between them in security, in society, in law, in health care, in pay, and in every aspect of society one can imagine.

It was to this world Leia Organa had been assigned to work. Much like her father she was growing to be an ambassador of the Empire who strongly advocated peace and cooperation, even when it didn't always benefit the Empire the most. Her assignment had been very recent and she was already struggling to grasp the situation.

More or less there were peaceful riots.

Leia stepped out of the hovercar along with her stormtrooper escort. The assembly was easy to see, as it filled the streets for a great distance. Local law enforcement lined the streets, corralling the rioters to this one highway, and under the governors command was not taking hostile action.

Thankfully Leia found the local governor, while being more Imperialistic than she would like, was a man who was practical and wanted a peaceful resolution to this. He believed the people were upset and wanted a voice. As such this riot was allowed to happen. They would be allowed to yell and scream all they wanted.

Didn't necessarily mean they would be heard.

The riot was held back from reaching the governor's mansion by an armed blocked with tanks and multiple lines of Imperial stormtroopers. They were not the local police force. They were much better trained and geared, and were there to represent the Empire rather than the locals.

Leia's chief guard said, "My lady, hurry into the governor's mansion. This place is not safe!"

Leia eyed the stormtrooper and shook her head. "You think me scared of a few words?"

"It is not words we should be worried about." The soldier responded.

Leia motioned to the crowd before them, "I see no weapons. Tell me, what do you see?"

"A threat."

"I see people who just want to be heard." Leia returned. "They aren't here to fight, captain. They just want to say something."

"There are channels through which they can relay wha-"

"This happens to be one of those channels."

" Perhaps " The soldier replied uncomfortably. "I still think you should go inside. It is not safe here."

Leia sighed. She appreciated the work they did, but sometimes it seemed their brains had gone to mush over Imperial propaganda. She stubbornly stepped into the front of the soldiers, to which the captain failed to stop her from doing, and presented herself before the assembly. She smiled.

Leia didn t say anything, but she didn t intend to. She saw news anchors among the crowd, and amidst the hundreds of banners and signs she tried to find who the leaders of this group was. Ah well, she couldn't see who was leading the mass, but it didn t matter. Merely by standing there she could give a peaceful face to this side of the negotiation table, rather than the empty mask of a stormtrooper soldier. It was something that could be encouraging for everyone.

Sometimes just an acknowledgement of humanity or a smile could change something.

The captain finally managed to squeeze up to her and was about to protest, quite vehemently, how he would drag her physically into the governor's mansion should she not move her prissy little butt right the hell now. Only he stopped short when he saw one of the 'peaceful' rioters step out of the crowd to give a bottle of water to a soldier that looked weary.

Leia smiled at the sight. "Never seen a peaceful riot have you?"

The captain shook his head.

"There was this one I watched, I still remember it." She smiled further in memory. "There was what you usually see, a crowd protesting something, soldiers and law enforcement keeping them from overstepping, and from the crowd came this little girl handing out flowers to them. She was with her father, but she wanted to make sure every single one of them had a flower and a hug. Sometimes I've even seen the soldiers share drinks and stories with the protestor, mingle and laugh. People only talk about violent protests on the news because drama is what people like to gossip about. News only talks about violent protests because drama sells. But the reality is peaceful protests are much more common than people think."

The soldier said nothing, showed nothing, but also did not restrain the limited interaction going on around them. It could have been because he listened and understood. It could have been because of the news casters presence. Whatever his reason, let's not judge.

It was a short-lived moment, but it had to end at some point. The captain insisted once more, though in a softer tone, and this time Leia obliged. He placed a guiding hand behind her and they entered the Imperial line. The governor's mansion was on the steps before them.

She walked up the steps, but before she made it to the top step... a sound shook her world.

The stormtrooper captain collapsed next to her with a red sizzling hole through the back of his armor.

She hadn't heard the gunshot. She hadn't heard the impact of plasma on plating. She would never know the science of armor and the significance of it, for his armor would stop gunfire but sniper bolts were designed to penetrate. She did not know he had taken a blow meant for her by little more than chance.

All she knew was it was sudden, quiet, and surreal. Her brain hadn't time to become afraid yet.

Not until a tank exploded.

It was chaos. No one knew who was firing anymore or who to fire at. Stormtroopers fired in the general direction of where the missile came from while less trained soldiers aimed wherever they believed there to be terrorists. And since a few of the protesters pulled out guns...

It was a bloodbath.

Leia lost all composure in the sight of death. She ran, yelled for it all to stop, yelled for everyone to lower their guns. But it was far too late.

Another missile hit their second tank, this time glancing its side and not exploding it across the street. The tank crew was shaken, but quickly recovered, aimed its guns where the combatant was hiding in the window, and unloaded on them.

Leia heard pain filled groans come from where the first tank had exploded, and rushed in. She stooped down and held the first soldier to move or make a sound. He was covered in burns, but the armor had taken most of it.

"Are you alright?! Are you hurt!" Leia yelled amidst the screams. Meanwhile she yelled for a medic and for everyone to stop, just to stop firing for the love of God, but her attention was mostly on this one.

"Mostly shaken up... can't feel my arm." He groaned.

His arm was there. Leia didn't see anything but there was blood coming from it.

Leia assured him he would be okay, and grabbing his shoulders she hauled him to the wreckage to lean against. She didn't notice how she was being covered in blood, and if she did, she wouldn't have cared. All she knew was the hundreds of voices screaming in her mind was deafening, and she could all but feel the death of every man, woman, and child around her; whether they be Imperial, terrorist, or innocent.

A few feet away was a civilian unlucky enough to be caught in the blast, who was yelling for help. She got up to run, but something in the back of her mind stopped her.

Her skin tingled, the hair on the back of her neck rose, all of her attention turned towards something... something she couldn't explain. She didn't know how it could be she knew it was coming... but she raised her hand... silently wishing the missile coming for her to stop.

**-Bail Organa-**

Bail Organa sat in heated discussion with the Hutts. After many long months, after sweat and frustration and boundless obstacles and 48 hour days, he finally felt peace was within his grasp. The talks were not there, not by any means. It would be long before his work was done. But he felt the biggest hurdles were past.

The door to the meeting room swooshed open and rattled against the walls. Many of them jumped in alarm and their personal guards all positioned themselves.

Lord Vader strode in. Stormtroopers marched in all around him and readied themselves.

Organa was speechless. Vader had been... though less than pleasant in their time here. He was at least professional and did not interrupt an official meeting.

Did something happen? Oh, of course something did. The question was what?

"What is the meaning of this?" One Hutt demanded.

Vader ignited his lightsaber. "By the authority of The Galactic Empire, and of Emperor Palpatine, you are all under arrest for grounds to commit terrorism, funding terrorism, warmongering, and I won't waste breath on the small stuff."

The Stormtroopers immediately scrambled to arrest the Hutts, and while their guards tried to stop them, Vader choked all resistance literally and metaphorically.

As for Organa, he was shaken. All of his work, gone. But even that paled in comparison to what he saw coming.

Without the Hutts to provide some semblance of unity among the Cartel, the entire quadrant of the galaxy will splinter into pieces as their lieutenants squabble and fight for what remains.

Chaos. Anarchy. Bottled up rage and hatred under a regime of oppression released.

Death.

Organa stood to try and take control of the situation, but before the first word had escaped his mouth two soldiers grabbed him by the forearm. Vader turned his dark face on the Senator and said, "All of you... are under arrest."

To Vader's pleasure, the man lost all composure and the look of horror was... ecstasy. The man didn't resist. He didn't say a word. He simply dropped his head like a defeated and broken man.

Vader motioned away and the soldiers took the Senator away.

Vader strolled to the window. He didn't bother watching as the Hutts were forced to crawl at gunpoint. His attention was on the Hutt capital below.

And the Death Star to come out of hyperspace.

* * *

**Note it is with this that the first major part of Marek of the Rebellion ends. There is more to come, but rather than make multiple fictions I'm going with one giant one.**

**I am also putting this on hiatus until I can figure out where I want the second "book" to go. And there is just too much going on in my life right now.**

**A few things I do have planned:**  
**1\. Leia will join the rebellion.**  
**2\. We discover what is on the mystery planet Leia gave them the coordinates to.**  
**3\. Harbinger reveals himself, and his rebellion, to the galaxy.**  
**4\. We start to take the fight to the Empire.**  
**5\. Ahsoka Tano.**


End file.
